


semideus

by lostariels



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alien Biology, Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Artificial Intelligence, Betrayal, Confrontations, Demigods, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Genetic Engineering, Heartbreak, Honesty, I'm motivated purely by last episodes confrontation and I'm gonna run with it, Injury, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Magical Pregnancy, Malnourishment, Metahumans, POV Lena Luthor, Pain, Pregnancy, Reconciliation, Science Experiments, Starvation, Unplanned Pregnancy, potentially a happy ending but tbh idk where it's going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostariels/pseuds/lostariels
Summary: “Analysis complete. Results show elevated hCG levels.”“No, no, no,” Lena mumbled, icy fear sliding down her spine and coiling in her stomach as a jolt of panic ran through her. “That can’t be correct. It must be a contaminated sample.”Scrambling for a sealed test tube waiting on a rack, Lena opened a metal drawer and rummaged through the neatly arranged medical supplies to pull out another packaged needle. Making a tourniquet around her left arm, Lena sat down on a stool and eyed the pale skin at the crook of her elbow, threaded through with bluish-green veins, and tore the needle open with her teeth.“Miss Luthor, the sample is not contaminated. Results show increased blood volume, and physical symptoms of your illness coincide with early gestational symptoms of pregnancy. By my calculations, you should be six-”“I’m not pregnant,” Lena snapped, her voice breaking as she shot to her feet, needle clutched in her hand and tourniquet slowing the blood supply to her left arm. “It’s- it’s indicative of a uterine infection, or a- a tumour. Ovarian cancer. But I am not pregnant. It would have to be an immaculate conception.”
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 694
Kudos: 4180
Collections: Gays in Earth 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [triangleshape19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triangleshape19/gifts).



> before any assholes wanna pipe up with their "it's Always lena who's pregnant, it's so unoriginal and boring" i'm gonna stop you right there bc you can go ahead and write your own, and also this prompt is a request based on this amazing art by eakingston2019:
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B4n2ErzAPRw/?igshid=1fittu5974nnd

Her stomach lurched with such suddenness that Lena barely had time to double over the trash can full of scrap metal before she vomited up what little food she’d managed to cram in somewhere between midnight and dawn. Shoulders heaving, she dropped to the cold floor of her lab and clutched the edge of the bin in a white-knuckled grip, gasping as the bile burned its way up her throat and made her eyes sting with tears.

_“Miss Luthor?”_

“I’m fine, Hope,” Lena muttered, face flushed and clammy as she staggered to her feet and gripped the edge of the workbench for balance, hunched over as nausea swept through her once more. “Must be a case of bad sushi.”

Straightening up, Lena drew in a deep, shuddering breath, the taste of bile sour in her mouth as it coated her tongue. A headache pulsed behind her eyes and she felt leaden with exhaustion, muscles aching and limbs heavy and clumsy.

_“Miss Luthor, I would suggest rest and hydration. Symptoms should abate in one to two days.”_

“It’s already passed,” Lena muttered, bloodless lips pressed together in a grim line as she ran a trembling hand over her sweaty forehead.

The truth was she’d been feeling awful for weeks now, as if she’d come down with some sort of stomach bug or flu that just wouldn’t leave. Ashen-faced and hollow-eyed, Lena had worn herself down in her efforts to build _Hope_ and avoid facing the one person she ached to see more than anything. A part of her wondered if it was possible to show physical symptoms of heartbreak, to feel sick to her stomach at being betrayed, made a fool of. Surely if that were true, her heart would’ve stopped, ripped to shreds by the devastating blow that the truth had dealt her. 

No, this was nothing. Just a strain of the common cold that her vaccine hadn’t managed to fight off. Or perhaps it _was_ the sushi she had some time over the past two days, the rice off or the chicken raw in the middle. Either way, it would pass. She was too busy to let it get in the way of her progress. 

Still, the day wore on and any signs of her sickness abating were nowhere near in sight. Lena was starting to think that perhaps she’d contracted some sort of bug, almost laughable considering she spent most of her time in isolation in her lab. She was rarely ill, and when she was it rarely ran her down to such extents. It occurred to her that it could be early symptoms of something serious, some side effects of her work with alien substances, despite her precautions, and Lena found the thought nagging at the back of her mind. 

In the end, she settled on a routine blood test to ensure that it wasn’t anything serious, just to be safe. While she didn’t feel any unnatural side effects, she thought it best to dissuade any worrying thoughts from arising, knowing she’d be able to push through it if it was nothing more than a common virus. She was far too stubborn to succumb to something so ordinary.

With precision, she tied a tourniquet around her arm, disinfected the crook of her left elbow and tore open a sterile needle. A test tube was attached and collected the trickle of vivid red blood that sprang from her vein, a little thick because she’d forgotten to hydrate in pursuit of her new invention, but otherwise looking as healthy as it should. 

Sliding the needle out, she taped a cotton ball to the tiny hole as it beaded with a drop of dark blood, and screwed a cap onto the vial. Setting it in the small centrifuge on a counter, she let it spin around in the machine for fifteen minutes, the blood separating, before moving it to the analyser.

“Hope, run blood analysis.”

_“Of course, Miss Luthor. Running blood analysis now.”_

Feeling agitated as she waited, Lena slowly ambled back and forth before her workbench, unable to concentrate on the task she’d been working on for days, until the whirring, mechanical sound of the machine quieted. 

“Results?” she cautiously asked the small disk with the holographic hourglass particles, her eyes averted as she looked at the machine containing her vial of blood. 

Arms crossed over her chest, she brooded in silence as she waited, time dragging on for just a moment too long for her liking. Eventually, the AI device spoke, and she tensed with anticipation of the findings, hoping it was nothing but expecting the worst.

_“Miss Luthor, your test results show elevated hCG levels.”_

Freezing, Lena glanced over at the circular, pulsing device with prickling unease, her brow furrowing with confusion. Her mouth was dry as she splayed her fingers on the cold countertop, mind quickly running through the possible scenarios she would have high hCG levels.

“Run it again.”

_“There is no error in my analysis.”_

Muscles clenching in her jaw, Lena swallowed the thick lump that lodged itself in her dry throat, constricting her airway and felt her face flush with irritation. “Run analysis _again.”_

_“Yes, Miss Luthor. Running blood analysis.”_

Feeling strangely hollow, Lena felt shaky and hot, her clothes sticking to her damp skin as she slowly breathed in and out. Squeezing her eyes shut, she listened to the dull tempo of her heartbeat echoing in her ears and curled her hands into fists, swaying slightly as she impatiently waited for the scan to complete.

_“Analysis complete. Results show elevated hCG levels.”_

“No, no, no,” Lena mumbled, icy fear sliding down her spine and coiling in her stomach as a jolt of panic ran through her. “That can’t be correct. It must be a contaminated sample.”

Scrambling for a sealed test tube waiting on a rack, Lena opened a metal drawer and rummaged through the neatly arranged medical supplies to pull out another packaged needle. Making a tourniquet around her left arm, Lena sat down on a stool and eyed the pale skin at the crook of her elbow, threaded through with bluish-green veins, and tore the needle open with her teeth.

_“Miss Luthor, the sample is not contaminated. Results show increased blood volume, and physical symptoms of your illness coincide with early gestational symptoms of pregnancy. By my calculations, you should be six-”_

“I’m _not_ pregnant,” Lena snapped, her voice breaking as she shot to her feet, needle clutched in her hand and tourniquet slowing the blood supply to her left arm. “It’s- it’s indicative of a uterine infection, or a- a tumour. Ovarian cancer. But I am _not_ pregnant. It would have to be a miracle, and I am not quite so sinless as Mary to deserve _that_.”

She let out a strained laugh, dismissive and cold, before pulling up the results on a tablet. Staring down at the figures neatly charted, she felt her stomach plummet and dread permeate her entire body. 

Now that she thought about it, she’d been fatigued and nauseous for a couple of weeks now, her moods heightened, which she’d attributed to Kara, but could potentially be fuelled by an influx of hormones, and a splitting headache had been near-constant for days. Not to mention the fact that she’d had to adjust the thermostat down ten degrees, feeling hot and bloated as she perspired over her projects in the cool air-conditioned lab.

And then, with sinking realisation, Lena realised that her period was at least three weeks late. Doing the math in her head, she slowly lowered the tablet to the workbench and numbly mouthed along with her calculations. She’d been distracted and stressed, that much was obvious, but she hadn’t even entertained the idea because there was no way she could’ve possibly been pregnant. And yet the results were almost certain. Of course, Lena’s technology wasn’t infallible, but the chances of Hope being wrong in the analysis were slim.

With an apprehensive look on her peaky face, Lena reached for the tablet again, as if the results would’ve changed. As if she had read them wrong, to begin with, yet it was there in plain writing. She almost wished it was a tumour, something she could cut out of her without the confounding circumstances of how it had managed to grow inside her. But a baby was another thing entirely. It was inconceivable in every way that Lena had been impregnated, and she ghostly pale and quiet in her dazed shock as she stood before her microscope and disassembled technology, racking her brain for some scientific explanation for how it could’ve happened.

“An ultrasound,” Lena whispered to herself, quickly abandoning her work as she rushed towards the medical equipment she had on hand for research purposes with volunteer test subjects.

Forgoing the padded vinyl bed situated in the middle of the containment facility, Lena shed her shirt and squirted cold gel onto her stomach, frowning down at the expanse of flat, pale skin, before reaching for the transducer wand and switching the machine on. Her skin felt flushed and sensitive, rippling with goosebumps as she stared at the monochrome screen as it fluctuated.

Moving the wand around, Lena watched the screen closely, before stiffening at the faint echoing sound of a heartbeat, as if hearing it from underwater. The hairs on her body stood up on end and she felt her stomach lurch and heart stutter for a moment, before the transducer wand slipped from limp fingers. Instinctively, a hand went to Lena’s stomach, smearing gel all over her palm, and she was left staring at a blank, staticky screen for a few minutes.

_“Miss Luthor?”_

Jerking herself out of it, she blinked back the dry aching feeling in her eyes and opened and closed her mouth, speechless as she stared at the monitor. Swallowing thickly, she hoarsely cleared her throat and reached out for the transducer dangling by a wire, cleaning the end of it and switching the machine off.

Stiff and jerky, she bent down to pick up her abandoned shirt and slipped it on, doing up one button and letting the expensive silk stick to the gel, soaking into the thing material as she raked a hand through her hair. She hadn’t been home in days, avoiding any chance that Kara would show up there, or at her office upstairs at L-Corp, but now seemed like a good time. 

Feeling the overwhelming urge to lay down and let herself slip into unconsciousness, Lena buttoned a coat over her dishevelled outfit, grabbed her purse and slipped out of the lab, leaving her mess scattered throughout the room. For perhaps the first time in her life, Lena set her work aside and went home.

Mind reeling and the hollow, sick feeling of numbing shock making her feel lightheaded, Lena made her way out of the building and hailed down the first empty cab she came across, unable to even wait for her driver to be summoned for her. Climbing into the back seat, she cracked the window to let in the smoggy city air and drew in a long, rattling breath, her chest heaving as she felt her heart stagger off-tempo.

By the time she arrived at her apartment, her breaths were shallow and panicked, and she barely managed to extract a wad of bills from her purse, pushing them into the man’s hand and climbing out without waiting for change, before she climbed out of the stuffy car and vomited into the gutter. Weakly running the back of her hand over her trembling lips, Lena slammed the car door shut and rushed towards the lobby of her building.

Head pounding, mouth tasting bitter and unpleasant and her eyes stinging with the beginning of tears, Lena found the fragile strands that had kept her together on the ride home fraying and snapping, one by one. Hand shaking too much to get the key into the lock, it took her three attempts, and the moment she stepped inside, she fell back against the door and let out a choked sound of disbelief.

She didn’t cry, despite the burning urge in her eyes. Instead, Lena felt cold all over, a detached aloofness separating her from the moment as she went through the motions of shedding her clothes throughout her apartment and tumbling into bed in her underwear, burrowing beneath the blankets and emptying her mind of troubling thoughts. Sleep was quick to snatch her away from her reality, her body yearning for the limp stillness of it, yet she felt restless, her dreams eluding her but nagging at the back of her mind, speaking of shadows and her body being devoured bit by bit.

Lena slept seventeen hours in the end, jolting awake by the twisting feeling of nausea in her stomach, and she scrambled out of bed and barely managed to stagger to the ensuite before her stomach clenched and she heaved. Left gasping and spent, she lay down on the cold tiled floor and pressed her flushed cheek to the ground, feeling the soothing iciness seep into her skin and cool her body. She felt disjointed and clumsy, her stomach gnawing with hunger even as it turned at the thought of breakfast.

Staggering to her feet, she briskly brushed her teeth and then took a long, cold shower, spending most of it huddled on the floor, shivering as her body temperature lowered and her skin was frigid to the touch, fingernails purpling. Refreshed and shivering, she climbed out and wrapped herself in a fluffy robe, before making her way into the kitchen. The only thing in the fridge that didn’t make her feel queasy was a bundle of kale, which she steamed and forced down, her mouth grimacing with distaste for the blandness of it. 

It was in the early hours of the morning, the sky black beyond the windows, distant sirens and neon lights permeating the naturalness of the night, and she walked over to the windows and pressed a hand against the glass, her forehead resting against it as she closed her eyes. Feeling confused, Lena detached herself from her feelings, unwilling to allow herself to make a decision fueled by emotions, and then went back to bed.

Damp hair soaking into the pillowcases, she tossed and turned until the sun came up, and then rose to dress for work. She’d already wasted too much time and refused to dwell on the problem when the only way she would get answers was through science. Everything she would need to uncover the truth was already in her lab, and she would be more useful than a hospital at any rate. However she’d managed to get impregnated, it wasn’t through any natural means.

Driving herself to L-Corp, she slipped into her lab unnoticed, too irritable to withstand so much as a brief interaction with anyone else. Lights blossomed into a harsh glow, illuminating the expanse of her lab, upon her arrival, and she watched as the small white disk pulsed and formed the shifting hourglass as Hope activated herself.

_“Good morning, Miss Luthor.”_

“Morning, Hope,” Lena brusquely replied, setting her bag down and exchanging her coat for a lab coat.

_“Will we begin with a simulation this morning?”_

“No. Project Non Nocere has been shelved. Prep systems to scan a fetal biopsy.”

_“Yes, Miss Luthor.”_

Lena moved around the office with ease, disinfecting numerous tools, covering the bed in the containment facility with a sterile length of cloth and situating screens for her to view as she completed the procedure on herself. Shedding her lab coat and shirt, Lena draped herself with a cloth, leaving her stomach exposed as she lay half-propped up on the angled bed. Rubbing the site with yellowish antiseptic fluid, she applied the cold gel and pressed the transducer against her abdomen, using the grainy sonogram picture to guide her.

“Okay, Hope, beginning procedure.”

_“Monitoring stats. Readings are normal for patient and fetus.”_

Swallowing the lump in her throat, feeling the odd sensation of the numbing agent she’d injected herself with, she picked up the large needle for the biopsy and let out a shuddering breath.

“First sample … fetal membrane.”

Steeling herself, Lena eyed the image on the sonogram, listening to the echoic sounds of the rapid heartbeat as she clutched the transducer wand in her left hand, and steadily moved the biopsy needle in her right towards the turmeric coloured skin of her exposed stomach. She forced herself not to look away, her skin dimpling beneath the pressure of the point as her face twisted with a pinched look of revulsion, unused to being the patient beneath her capable hands. 

It was an uneasy sensation, but she grit her teeth and forced herself to push the needle through her yellowed skin and through the muscle of her abdomen. And then she felt a resistance, different to the moment of tension before muscle gave way before the insistent sharpness of a needle or scalpel, and she pushed a little harder, feeling the needle slip sideways as if skittering off a solid surface, the tip turned away. 

Pausing, Lena felt a trickle of cold sweat slide down her neck, the fabric she lay on sticking to her damp back, and she drew in a shuddering breath, before trying to force the needle through the membrane so she could take the biopsy. The first of four samples she intended to collect and test.

But still, it wouldn’t give way. Brow furrowing with bewildered frustration, Lena tried to pull the needle back out and nearly emptied her stomach of her meagre breakfast as she watched the skin of her abdomen rise with the retreating needle. It almost looked like a half-bent fish hook had caught her, and Lena felt bile rise at the back of her throat as she looked at the taut skin caught on the bent end of the needle. The hard membrane surrounding the fetus hadn’t just turned aside the point, it had quite literally _bent_ it.

Hurriedly twisting the needle and working it free, Lena felt a jolt of fear as she sat up straight, staring down at her stomach with wide eyes and a hard look on her face. Whatever was inside her was _definitely_ not human. Without a biopsy, she had no idea what it could be, no way to analyse the DNA of the sample, and she felt her mouth go dry as she let the needle drop onto the wheeled tray of utensils beside her with a clatter. 

Swinging her legs off the bed, Lena cleaned herself up and put everything away, tension making her movements stiff and almost robotic as she found a sense of normalcy in tidying up. The entire time, she couldn’t stop her mind from running through scenarios of how this could’ve been possible, each one seemingly more ludicrous than the rest, although she ruled nothing out. 

She’d been in contact with aliens before, even befriended a couple, and while they’d looked human - or could appear so - that didn’t mean that they subscribed to human physiology. There was J’onn with his ability to shapeshift into any form he wanted to and his psychic waves, Nia with her half-alien psychic dreams. And then despite herself, Lena’s thoughts turned to her source of pain and heartbreak. Kara.

Kara, who was Supergirl, The Girl of Steel, with her ability to fly and her impenetrable skin. Her skin that could deflect bullets and resist fire. That could withstand explosions and blasts from plasma rays. And then, realisation dawned on Lena’s face. Her stomach lurched as the thought grew in her mind, with overwhelming fear and the gut-wrenching acceptance of what she undoubtedly knew was the truth.

_Kara’s face, bruised and bleeding from her attempts to help take down Lex._

_The ice-cold fear that gripped Lena, seized her heart as panic slammed into her. How her heart spasmed at the sight of the vivid red blood smeared on her face before she could wipe it off. So fragile, so human._

_The way her lips gave way beneath Lena’s as she crushed her mouth to Kara’s. Pillowy soft and yielding with surprise._

_The coppery taste of blood in her mouth as she pulled back and pressed her lips together, taking in Kara’s dilated pupils and lips parted with surprise. Feeling her heart leap in her chest as her stomach felt the weightless thrill of taking a leap of faith._

_And then the confrontation with her brother. The acrid smell of gunpowder on her hand from a fired gun. The videos of Kara playing behind his dead body, of her slipping off her glasses to set incriminating photos alight, catching bullets in her hands and breathing gusts of ice-cold air from those lips Lena had kissed such a short while ago._

_Devastating betrayal. Foolish embarrassment. A stone weighing heavily in Lena’s stomach. Another lie._

The kiss. Lena couldn’t say how she knew it, but with certainty, she knew that was the source of all this trouble. Kara always seemed to be at the centre of them. And this time it was a shocking twist, so unbelievable that the thought that something like that could happen had never even occurred to her. Yet here she was.

But still, she had to test it. An idea made her straighten up, a spark of purpose in her eyes as she squared her shoulders with determination. Nothing quite made Lena come alive like a challenge, a problem to work out or a mystery to uncover. Right now, she had the greatest mystery of her life on her hands and growing in her stomach. 

Rounding the end of the workbench, she made her way towards a steel rack of shelves and reached for a sealed black box. Gingerly carrying it over to a table, Lena set it down and unclasped it, raising the lid a mere inch and feeling a wave of weakness wash over her with the sickly green neon glow of kryptonite. 

Knees buckling, Lena felt a thousand tiny pinpricks dig into her skin, like fire creeping over her body, and braced herself against the table as she slammed the box shut, containing the sample and feeling the effects fade. Running a shaky hand over her grey face, she stayed hunched over, dark hair spilling in her face, and realised her conclusion had been right. But that still didn’t answer the question of how a simple, brief kiss could impregnate her. 

“Hope, bring up my brother’s files on Kryptonian physiology.”

_“Okay, here are two-hundred and thirty-six of Lex Luthor’s files on Kryptonian physiology. Subtopics include genetic sequences, anatomy and enhanced abilities.”_

“Anatomy.”

A large screen full of the opened files, documents and photos took up most of one wall and the lights in the lab dimmed at Hope’s intervention, anticipating Lena’s needs. She watched as at least two-thirds of the documents closed, before a large scan of Superman’s anatomy appeared on the right side of the screen, the left showing assorted snippets of calculations, inferences and carefully researched observations taken from Lex’s private journals and the servers Lena had acquired when she’d become CEO.

_“Research shows that typical Kryptonian adults have a bone count of three-hundred and twenty-five bones. Comparative differences to humans are visible in the number of ribs, bones in the hands and feet, and the skull. Bone mineral density in an adult male is calculated at fifteen standard deviations than the human average, attributing to a heavier body mass. Despite bone density and mass, scans show that Kryptonian’s bones are hollow, much like birds. It can be inferred that this assists them in their flight abilities beneath a yellow sun.”_

Lena let the AI’s voice wash over her with an influx of information as she took in the scan of Superman on the screen. Taking in the visual evidence of the small, extra ribs over the lower abdomen, the heart on the right side of the body, strange membranes covering the sac in the middle of the abdomen that held the organs suspended, instead of weighing down on the diaphragm. An abundance of muscles and ligaments and tendons that Lena didn’t recognise and couldn’t name covered the bones, allowing for greater flexibility, a better range of motion, greater strength, even without the effects of sunlight. She marvelled at the mass of veins and arteries, carrying so much oxygen and blood around the body that she could understand their ability to seemingly never tire. It was fascinating, yet made her feel like Kara was even more of a stranger to her than she’d realised.

_“A cross-section of Kryptonian muscle analysis shows a greater number of fast and slow-twitch-”_

“Is there anything about reproduction?”

_“Scanning files for results of Kryptonian reproduction.”_

Chewing anxiously on her lip, Lena leant against the counter and stared at the screen with wide, fearful eyes.

_“Kryptonians were isogamous and were known to mate and give birth, as humans do, before genetic engineering allowed the fusion of DNA with a viable gamete in a facility known as the Genesis Chamber. Without the rigid societal norms of humans-”_

“Fusion of DNA?” Lena sceptically interrupted, “you’re saying I’m pregnant because Kara’s DNA- her _saliva_ or her- her _blood_ fused with mine?”

_“Your brother’s notes on the topic are sparse, Miss Luthor. By my deduction, I would liken it to Ancient Greek mythology. The ichor of gods and titans held fertilising properties. It would not be unfounded to believe Kara Danvers’ blood could have the same function. I would assume there are hormonal changes akin to menstruation that would make Kryptonians viable to fuse their DNA. If your body ingested and absorbed such a sample of Kryptonian blood into your bloodstream, it would not be impossible for the dominant genetics of the alien species to seek viable gametes to form an embryo.”_

Spluttering speechlessly, Lena found herself reeling from the shock that something so simple as kissing someone with their face beaten to a pulp, something so innocent and tender, could lead to her becoming _pregnant._ And not just pregnant, but pregnant with the half-alien fetus belonging to the person she loved most in the world. The person who hurt her the most.

A spasm of pain ran across Lena’s face as her thoughts turned to the forbidden topic of Kara, the locked off part of her heart where all her hurt was buried, held at bay by a wall that was riddled with cracks, just waiting to let the flood of pain slam into her and incapacitate Lena. She didn’t want to think about her. She never wanted to see Kara again, even though her heart ached for her, for the urge to be wrapped in her warm embrace, which had always seemed feverishly hot yet comforting, to let down her armoured walls around her and just be Lena, instead of a Luthor. 

All that comfort, the security, the warmth of friendship, had allowed her to be vulnerable with Kara. And in the end, it had all been a lie. The worst part was that Kara still hadn’t even told her the truth. Perhaps Lena should’ve confronted her, but the thought of standing face to face with her, looking into the kind gentleness of Kara’s blue eyes as her face lit up at the sight of Lena, made her feel sick to even think about. Kara should’ve _wanted_ to tell her. She should’ve come to her a long time ago, nervous and flustered, and told her the truth. Lena wouldn’t have felt so hurt, so betrayed, if she’d told her sooner.

And of course, she understood _why_ Kara hadn’t told her, at the beginning. But she’d let years slip by, had made Lena love her, had given her a home. Things she’d never had before. People who’d known her few a couple of weeks had been made privy to the information kept at bay from Lena’s knowledge and it hurt. It hurt to not be trusted, to be excluded after making it _so_ clear how she felt about lies and secrets. After everything Lena had done to prove her intentions were only good, in the end, she only ever amounted to being just another Luthor.

_“Miss Luthor, I should advise you that human physiology is too fragile to withstand the full gestational term necessary for the fetus to develop into a viable infant. Comparable differences between humans and Kryptonians could prove fatal to you, if you should seek to pursue the pregnancy.”_

Mind running through the possibilities, Lena sank down onto a stool, burying her face in her hands as she propped her elbows on the table. Motherhood had never been a realistic factor in Lena’s life, never something she ever thought she’d yearn for. Growing up, watching children at school play with dolls, and then when she grew older, seeing couples with babies, it made her feel like she was lacking some maternal instinct. 

But what she had on her hands was nothing short of a miracle. A chance to create a new species of life, to discover scientific wonders in how human and alien species’ DNA were compatible. She was a scientist above all else, after all, and the opportunity to uncover new knowledge was too good to pass up. 

But she wasn’t sure if she was ready to raise a child, to nurture it and love it, as broken as she already was. A life without love, and nothing but the sharp sting of rejection, made Lena think that she was lacking in who she was as a person, and she wasn’t sure the person she was was someone who would be capable of giving a child everything they needed to thrive in this harsh world. Yet, she wanted to try.

Some part of her broken heart was still beating, still fighting for a better world where people weren’t as cruel, still clinging to the shreds of hope that someone out there would truly love her. And here was her opportunity. To raise someone good and kind, with what she’d thought were the best parts of Kara, before she found out it was a lie. Here was the chance to give someone the childhood she’d always craved for, the one she’d had for the briefest of moments with her birth mother, full of laughter and love, to never want for anything or feel abandoned and alone. To raise someone who would love her unconditionally, who would never betray her.

_“Miss Luthor, should I prepare for a termination procedure?”_

The question hung heavily in the air, and Lena pressed her lips together, shoulders taut beneath her shirt as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, stars bursting on the insides of her eyelids. It could go either way, eating away at her body like a parasite leaching the host of its strength to fuel its own greedy needs, until she withered away into nothing and succumbed to its hunger. Or, it could be a scientific breakthrough into a new species of metahumans, with impossible powers and a claim to humanity, the best of two races that could be manufactured with nothing more than a sample of blood. A single vial could generate thousands of them, give people the chance to raise their own heroes. 

Not that she’d necessarily _help_ corrupt governments create metahuman armies from birth, but the simple fact of finding out the extent of how human and Kryptonian DNA would fuse was too good of an opportunity for someone like her to pass up. She just couldn’t waste the chance. The chance for a scientific breakthrough, or the chance to raise someone who could give her the love she so desperately wanted. They would need her, and they would love her for it.

“No.”

_“Miss Luthor, you are aware of the risks this pregnancy will bring.”_

Climbing to her feet, Lena wearily sighed, shoulders slumping with resignation, and glanced at the screen once more. “Yes, Hope. I know what I’m doing. We have a new project.”

She paused for a moment, a spark of determination in her eyes, bringing back her former thirst for knowledge, and a faint smile twitched at the corners of her lips. “Project Semideus.”

_“Project Demigod. An apt name. Where would you like to begin?”_

“We’re going on a sabbatical.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hope, start recording.”

Lena was in the vast kitchen of her family’s abandoned mansion, repurposed for her own uses, measuring out oats onto a set of scales on the counter. Sunlight seeped in through the windows and the gauzy curtains fluttered in the cold wind that swept into the house in an attempt to cool Lena’s flushed skin. Over the past few weeks, her core temperature had sky-rocketed, and it was all she could do to put on a shirt and pants without feeling like she was about to pass out from heat stroke. It would seem that the fetus had Kara’s penchant for radiating warmth.

Hand pressed against the swell of her stomach,  _ just _ visible through the slight strain against the black shirt she was wearing, Lena glanced down at the number on the scales and lifted the metal bowl off with a satisfied look on her gaunt face.

“Week sixteen, day four. Breakfast consists of one hundred grams of oats. One teaspoon of cinnamon. Twenty-six grams of chopped walnuts and one small apple. And two hundred and fifty millilitres of freshly squeezed juice. Ingredients include one cup of beetroot, two cups of carrot. Thirty grams of kale. Two stalks of celery and one lemon.”

_ “Log recorded. Will there be anything else, Miss Luthor?” _

“Not yet.”

Absentmindedly stirring the oats at the stove, Lena tossed in the rest of the ingredients and took a sip of her juice, the greenness of it almost bitter on her tongue as she measured out almond milk in a jug, before adding it to the pot. Her life had become a living science experiment, each factor controlled, from the perfectly measured weight of all of her meals, as per the guidelines for pregnancy, to the foods she allowed herself to consume, to her carefully contained body temperature, exercise allotment and exactly seven hours of sleep. 

She’d isolated herself ten weeks ago, leaving National City behind under the guise of a new business venture in Tokyo, leaving nothing more than a hasty text message for Kara to ensure that she didn’t try and see her before she left, and wouldn’t come after her as Supergirl out of suspicion as to where she’d disappeared to. It was with bitterness that Lena messaged her, feigning friendship because that’s what Kara would expect from her, before she packed her bags and went to Metropolis.

Her family’s mansion had stood empty since she’d helped her brother cure his cancer, and more so since she’d shot him dead in the bunker, which left behind enough space and medical equipment for Lena to set herself up comfortably to wait out the duration of her pregnancy. The sitting room with its gaping fireplace and mahogany panelled walls and wingback armchairs had been commandeered by the rest of the equipment Lena had flown in. Screens were scattered throughout the vast room, monitors beeped and flashed, and steel benches had been set up like a lab.

Refusing to so much as step foot inside her old childhood bedroom, Lena made a bedroom for herself in a parlour just off the sitting room, with no windows, ensuring that her circadian rhythm wouldn’t be affected by contrary levels of sunlight. A small camp bed with a memory foam mattress had been installed, and she lived out of the steamer trunk of clothes she’d brought with her, knowing she’d outgrow the perfectly tailored clothes soon enough.

Restricting her movements to a few rooms within the sprawling warren of rooms, Lena filled them with every piece of machinery and equipment she imagined she’d need. The billiards room had been stocked with a fridge containing enough blood to keep her body pumped full of it, should she need it, as well as what could pass for a respectable pharmacy, with racks of drugs clustered around the covered pool table. A mock operating theatre was set up in the foyer, the marble cold and sterile and easy enough to clean up and give her the space to operate on herself, should she need to. 

The only time she ever ventured out of her carefully contained series of rooms was for her daily exercise. Wing to wing, the house was long enough to offer her a lengthy stretch of connected hallways to stretch her legs as part of her daily exercise, passing by oil paintings and sheets draped over what she vaguely recalled being tall vases or tables. It was still, punctuated by the occasional groaning pipe or creaking floorboards, and Lena felt loneliness wrap her in its embrace. Yet, in some ways, she relished it. 

The solitude was a welcome period of reflection as her stomach grew, a growing heaviness settling within her as she found time to think about Kara. Through meditation and mindfulness techniques, Lena was trying to train herself to let go of her tension, to become relaxed in order to find a sense of equilibrium with her emotions, so as not to cause any unwarranted distress for the fetus. That started with trying to come to terms with her anger towards Kara, and it was a near-impossible task. The most she could manage was to calmly breathe as her thoughts strayed towards her, before locking them away again. 

She brooded all through breakfast, washing up afterwards and then fetching an exorbitant amount of vitamins and pills from her makeshift pharmacy, prenatal supplements to ensure that she was getting all of her nutrients, before making her way to the semblance of a lab she’d cobbled together in the sitting room.

“Hope.”

_ “Yes, Miss Luthor?” _

“It’s time for the weekly progress report. Prep system for a full-body scan and fetal monitoring.”

Fingers quickly undoing the buttons of her shirt, Lena climbed up onto the inclined bed and squirted gel onto the swell of her pale stomach, before picking up the transducer wand from where she kept the ultrasound machine in close proximity to the bed. Pressing the tip into the gel, she tensed at the echoic thumping of the fetal heartbeat, the hairs on her body standing up on end at the sound that was familiar, yet by no means less unnervingly ominous, even after nearly three months of hearing it. 

_ “Fetal heart rate is elevated, as predicted.” _

“Can you bring up the trendline?” Lena asked, turning her attention to one of the large screens as it flared to life.

A graph depicted Hope’s carefully calculated estimations on the fetus’ development, based on what they knew from Lex’s files and journals, and Lena studied it closely, looking at the data spread before her. So far, they were within what they’d determined an average range, yet which was still vastly above the standard deviation for a human fetus. Lena wasn’t sure how much of Kara’s DNA would be dominant, but already there were visible differences on the ultrasound scans she conducted weekly.

Looking for fetal anomalies, she’d determined the heart was also on the right, like Kara’s, and judging by the weight, she’d concluded that it definitely had inherited Kryptonian bone density. All approximate measurements showed that it was smaller than a sixteen-week human fetus should be, developing a little slower, but was much heavier. Not for the first time, Lena wondered if she’d be able to carry the fetus to term, or whether her fragile human body just wasn’t meant to withstand a Kryptonian parasite.

“What about the length? Is it still short?”

_ “Fetus is measuring the same as a human fetus at ten weeks gestation. Development seems normal, just delayed.” _

“Is there anything about how long Kryptonian gestation is in your database?”

_ “Scanning files. Results show no information on the topic requested. I would deduce that there is no information on this as Kryptonian’s used the Genesis Chamber in the centuries preceding the planet’s demise.” _

Humming to herself in a disconcerting manner, Lena frowned at the screen. There were too many unknowns in this, and it was troubling, to say the least. She wanted to reach out to Kara, to ask her about her culture and the differences between them, whether there had been Kryptonians on Earth before, and if they’d had offspring together. Whether it was possible for her to carry it to term or if it would kill her slowly from the inside, breaking her bones with its kicks and draining her body of its sustenance to keep the tiny wrong-sided heart pumping. But to do all of that, she’d need to be able to confront Kara.

It was almost laughable to Lena that the thought of enduring a horrendous pregnancy with a half-alien baby, and potentially killing herself in the process, was a more bearable option to so much as conversing with someone she’d thought had been her friend. Someone Lena had loved more than anyone else in the world. But none of that mattered now, because, in five months, she’d give birth and raise her daughter with so much love that it would overshadow any of the pain she’d endured. It was the straw that Lena clung to with a desperation that was pitiful and sad. But she didn’t have anything else. Her life was empty of anything that brought her joy, of anyone that brought her light. A baby would bring all of that though.

Lost in her thoughts, Lena fumbled with her clothes and shed them, before climbing onto a set of scales, while Hope did a comparison with the day-to-day data they were gathering, as well as a cross-examination of how she was comparing to a human pregnancy. 

_ “Miss Luthor, your current weight gain is two pounds heavier than the average human weight gain at sixteen weeks pregnant. Due to the slow development of the fetus correlating to a ten-week-” _

“It means I should weigh a lot less,” Lena grumbled, digging her thumbs into the sore muscles of her lower back as she stretched slightly. 

_ “That is correct.” _

With a soft sigh, Lena awkwardly squatted and reached for her clothes, before starting to redress again. “And the girth?”

_ “Concurrent with a ten-week pregnancy also. You are measuring zero point one millimetre bigger than yesterday.” _

“That’s all for now, Hope,” Lena wearily sighed. “It’s time to get our daily dose of exercise. Right, little specimen?”

She stroked the slight bump of her stomach with surprising tenderness, her voice a soft croon, before tucking her shirt back in and walking out of the room. The hallway was shadowed and the smell of polished wood was oddly comforting, yet ominously familiar. It was the feeling of home, and she both loathed and craved it, walking through the corridors as her bare feet sunk into carpet thick with dust, motes swirling up around her until she fell into a sneezing fit.

By the time she’d walked the length of the west wing and back, passing by old framed photos grimed with dust and obscuring her childish face and other signs of her childhood, like the empty spot where a vase she’d knocked over used to stand, or the nicked edges of a table that she’d swatted with her fencing foil, Lena was exhausted. It was a long house, she knew that, but her breathing was slightly laboured and her skin was damp with sweat in a way that made her feel almost ashamed of the fact that walking was tiring for her now. She was used to intense pilates workouts and spin classes, and now she was nearly halfway through her pregnancy and couldn’t get through a walk without needing a nap to recover.

Having a cold shower for the second time that morning, Lena changed into a clean set of clothes and then set a timer for twenty minutes and logging her nap in with Hope. She attached sensors to her body to monitor her sleeping pattern, taking no chances with how variables might affect her, and then used one of her mindfulness techniques to help her quickly drift off to sleep.

_ “Miss Luthor.” _

Lena jolted awake at the sound of the disembodied voice, feeling refreshed and alert as she pushed herself up off the mattress. Running a hand through her tousled hair, she blinked rapidly and then climbed to her feet, one hand supporting her stomach. Admittedly, the bump was so slight that she barely looked pregnant, but the weight of the baby settled heavily inside her, an unmistakable presence hidden inside her.

“Log napping data into the system, please, Hope.”

_ “Miss Luthor. It has not been twenty minutes yet.” _

“Then why are you-”

_ “Someone is here.” _

A jolt of panic ran through Lena’s body, adrenaline suddenly coursing through her as she moved quickly, reaching for a gun in the nightstand and telling Hope to activate the defence mechanisms she’d installed throughout the house. Skin prickling with unease, Lena inched towards the door, listening for the sound of the intruder, wondering if it was someone there to get revenge on her for murdering her brother - it wouldn’t surprise her if he’d left plans in case he’d been murdered - or if perhaps it was her mother.

“I know you’re there,” Lena called out, a lump in her throat. “I should warn you, I have a gun. And this house is armoured in the best defence system on the planet. If you’ve found me, you can clearly see through the cloaking device, so you already know what you’re dealing with.”

And then her stomach jolted with an almost queasy feeling as her mind strayed towards Kara. Lena wasn’t sure how she knew, but at that moment, she didn’t doubt for a second that it was Kara - or Supergirl - there to see her. Even as the thought came to her, there was a prickling feeling at the back of her neck and she whirled around to see the Kryptonian standing there in her new suit with a like of mild surprise on her face.

“It’s me, Miss Luthor.”

Hefting the gun in her clammy hand, Lena hesitated for a moment, licking her dry lips as she stared at Kara and felt the smouldering embers of her simmering pain flare to a searing white-hot, as if a knife had been slipped through her ribs and twisted in her heart. She held onto the gun for a moment longer than necessary, a clear indication of her mistrust towards the person she’d thought was her friend. Kara’s eyes strayed towards it with a wordless question swimming in the depths of the sky blue. Swallowing an accusation, a curse, every harsh and cruel world Lena wanted to hurl at her, she slowly set the gun down on the steel workbench beside her.

“What are you doing here?”

Her words were flat and unwelcoming and Kara retreated slightly, a flicker of uncertainty colouring her features before she gave Lena a small smile, kindness and warmth radiating from her. 

“I’ve been looking for you.”

“Well, I’m here. In my  _ home.” _

“I thought- you said you were in Tokyo,” Kara continued, her voice cautious. “I went there to look for you and you … well, I couldn’t find you.”

Kara’s voice was so soft that Lena felt her heart wrench at the mere sound of her name, said with such gentleness and concern that she almost deluded herself into believing for a moment that Kara actually cared about her. That perhaps their whole friendship hadn’t been a lie, hadn’t been situated around Kara getting close to her to keep an eye on the youngest Luthor. Turning her head aside, Lena grit her teeth, a muscle in her jaw twitching slightly, and swallowed thickly. She wasn’t sure she had the resolve to withstand this.

“Well … you’ve found me now.”

“Kara Danvers said you haven’t been answering her calls or messages. She was worried. She asked me to check in on you.”

Resisting the urge to scoff and give her a scathing look, Lena let her eyes fixate on one of the blank screens, a wry smile twisting her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that so? You can tell her there’s nothing to worry about. I lost my phone. I came back from Tokyo early and I’m working on a personal project.”

Running a trembling hand over her perspiring forehead, Lena patiently waited for Kara to leave, unable to bring herself to glance at the caped hero standing in the middle of the foyer, amidst the cold, clinical feeling of the operating equipment.

“A medical one? You don’t look well. Are you-”

“It’s temporary.”

“Is someone caring for you?”

Anger bubbling up inside, Lena ground her teeth together, body tense with frustration and coiled ready to spring. She curled her hands into fists and let out a short laugh, devoid of any humour or warmth. 

“I can take care of  _ myself _ . I have everything I need right here.”

Her words came out bitterly but faded into a quiet gasp as her face spasmed with pain. Hunching slightly at the pressure in her abdomen, Lena pressed her lips together in a bloodless line, face hardening to an ashen grimace as she reached out heavy-handed to brace herself against the vinyl-covered operating table.

“Lena?”

Kara moved in a blur of red and blue, impossibly fast and radiating heat before her like a furnace. It was startling to see her humanity stripped away, to bare herself as the alien creature she was in her haste to help Lena, and Lena staggered backwards as the blur came to a stop at her side before she could even fully comprehend Kara moving. It made her heart lurch in her chest and her blood pressure spike, a feeling of vulnerability encasing her as she realised that Kara could rip her limb from limb if she wanted to. It felt strange to feel so unsafe around someone who had been her safety. It made her eyes burn with the beginnings of tears.

“Don’t touch me,” Lena warned her, her voice low and hoarse, cracking in her skittish haste to put as much distance between herself and Kara as she could.

“I just- I’m only trying to help,” Kara said, her face crumpling with bewildered concern as she held her hands up in surrender, blue eyes wide and scared. Scared  _ for _ Lena. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all. You’re in pain.”

A shaky laugh managed to stutter its way past Lena’s lips, teeth clenched together as the fetus stopped its strange squirming inside her. It shouldn’t have been developed enough to be moving around so much, its fluttering and pinching movements a sensation that she’d never thought she’d experience, yet it was undeniable that the fetus was moving inside her, stronger than anticipated and making her feel nauseous.

Panting as her ashen skin flooded with colour, a feverish flush of pink to her cheeks, Lena straightened up slightly from her doubled-over position and gripped the edge of her bench. It was suffocatingly warm and beads of sweat rolled down her skin beneath her damp clothes as she mopped at her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt.

“What-” Kara quietly asked before breaking off, face pinched with fear and voice thick with worry. Her throat bobbed around a lump as she tried to get the question out. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You should be able to figure that out on your own,” Lena said, peering up and giving Kara a sharp smile as she remained hunched over, hands braced for support as her dark hair plastered to her skin. “Go ahead. Take a listen.”

With an expression clouded with worry, Kara cocked her head to the side and gazed intently at Lena, who forced herself to straighten up and face her head-on, waiting for the realisation to dawn on her. It took a few moments before she saw it in Kara’s eyes, the kernel of an idea growing in her mind before it blossomed into understanding. Her lips parted as she exhaled with a soft huff of laughter, tense shoulders drooping with relief and blue eyes lighting up with amazed delight.

“You’re  _ pregnant.” _

“Very perceptive,” Lena snarkily replied, mouth twisting in a scornful look of contempt.

Opening and closing her mouth, Kara gave Lena a searching look, a troubled look in her eyes and a faint crease between her eyebrows, giving her a dissatisfied look. “Whose baby is it?”

With a quiet scoff, Lena arched an eyebrow and curled her hands into fists as anger and hurt washed over her, so overwhelmingly painful that her breathing hitched as she inhaled. Swallowing thickly, Lena’s lips twitched with thinly veiled amusement as she dug half-moon’s into the palms of her hands. She couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice as she replied.

“Let’s see if you can figure this one out too.  _ Hope _ , bring up the fetal DNA matrix.”

The largest monitor flickered to life with a series of graphs, notes and a rotating DNA helix that was unmistakably not entirely human to anyone who knew what to look for. And despite Kara’s pretence at being ordinarily human, Lena saw it in her eyes as she realised what she was looking at. Regardless of how much she knew about biology, she clearly recognised Kryptonian DNA amid the strand.

“No, but that’s … impossible,” Kara murmured, brow crumpling into a frown as she peered at the screen with a dubious expression on her face. “It’s got … Kryptonian DNA.”

She sharply turned to face Lena, a mystified look in her eyes.  _ “How?” _

With an airy laugh, Lena plucked at the front of her damp shirt, feeling like she’d swallowed a stone as her stomach dropped with a pang of heartache. “With the help of my brother’s notes and Hope, I came to the conclusion that Kryptonian DNA can be used to fuse with someone else’s gametes to create a viable embryo. Of course, there were notes on the Genesis Chamber too - sparse ones, I’ll admit - and that seems to work differently too, but a natural conception, without the help of scientific intervention, can be carried out via blood or saliva with fertilising properties. Am I close?”

Soundlessly stammering with surprise, Kara managed to slowly nod. “I- well- that’s a close enough description of the basics, yes, but … my cousin wouldn’t-”

“Of course not,” Lena said with a scoff of laughter, a bitter twist to her lips as she smiled down at the steel bench, “which leaves you. Except, oddly enough, we haven’t exchanged saliva either, or blood. I’m assuming a kiss would’ve been the easiest method, but we haven’t kissed. In fact, the last person I kissed was Kara Danvers. Months ago. She had a split lip from trying to help with my brother. I remember because I could taste the blood when I kissed her.”

Head rising to meet Kara’s gaze, Lena’s smile grew, her eyes bright with pain, and she watched as Kara’s bottom lip trembled as she drew in a shuddering breath, a pleading look on her face as she realised that Lena knew the truth. 

“But Kara Danvers is human,” Lena whispered, her voice low and harsh as she blinked back the stinging feeling of tears, “my best friend would’ve told me if she wasn’t. I would  _ know _ if she was Kryptonian. Right?”

“Lena, I-”

“No, I don’t want an explanation,” Lena sharply cut her off.

A hollowness caved out of her chest as she struggled to keep her voice level. She trembled with the effort, her throat constricting painfully tight as she fought to draw in a ragged breath. Her cheeks were flushed red with anger and her skin felt like it was on fire as she stood there, confronting her best friend, the friend she loved so desperately, who had hurt her so badly. A wave of exhaustion swept over Lena and she had to fight to stay on her feet as she swayed through a bout of dizziness.

“I don’t want an excuse or- or a reason. I just- I want you to go, Kara. You know the truth, so now you can go.”

“That’s  _ my _ baby,” Kara quietly exclaimed, a look of fear and hurt and more than a little shock as she reeled slightly through the news, “were you even going to tell me?”

Lip curling up, Lena crossed her arms over her chest and gave her a haughty look. “Eventually, yes. Once I’d given birth.”

“Once you’d-  _ Lena _ , this is  _ dangerous _ . How long have you known?”

With a nonchalant shrug, Lena studied the wood panelling of the wall beyond Kara, picking at the silk of her shirt as she avoided meeting her eye. “Couple of months.”

“You should’ve told me the moment you found out,” Kara heatedly replied, a wounded look of panic in her eyes as her shoulders went taut with anger.

Scoffing, Lena lifted her eyebrows in a brief look of amusement. “I’m entitled to my secrets … as are you, apparently.”

“This is- it’s  _ different!  _ You’re putting your life at risk and you didn’t even  _ tell me?  _ That’s my- it’s  _ my  _ child too.”

“It’s a fetus,” Lena coldly replied in a clipped tone, “you have no right to it while it’s inside  _ my _ body. When it’s born, you’ll have parental rights, but until then-”

A muscle twitched in Kara’s jaw as she gave Lena an incredulous look. “You don’t  _ understand. _ You can’t give birth to it! It’ll break you apart. We’re under a  _ yellow sun _ ; it’s too strong for a human to carry without killing them from the inside. Trust me, I know, my cousin-”

“I’m working on it,” Lena muttered.

Kara moved towards her in a blur of red and blue, startling Lena, whose heart thundered in her chest as she involuntarily flinched back. A pleading look in her eyes, Kara reached out for her, hands falling shy of touching Lena’s feverish skin, and Lena found herself unable to look away.

“Please, Lena. Don’t do this. Don’t do this to yourself.”

“That’s not- it’s not-”

Lena cut off with a small gasp of pain, her red face suddenly blanching to bone white as her face twisted into a mask of agony. She clutched at the sodden front of her shirt, grabbing a handful of thin fabric until her knuckles whitened. Beneath the shirt and the slight swell of her stomach, the fetus squirmed in a sickening manner that made Lena’s mouth flood with the sour taste of bile. 

“Lena?”

Fighting to keep it down, Lena blinked back black spots as they sparked across her field of vision and felt her knees give out beneath her. Strong, burning arms branded her skin through the thinness of her shirt as they caught her before she fell, and the last thing Lena remembered before darkness swallowed her whole was a pair of blue eyes boring into hers as she was lowered to the ground, a hand pressed to her bump.

_ “Damn it, specimen.” _


	3. Chapter 3

Lena came to with the strange sensation of weightlessness and blessed cold, struggling against heavy eyelids as her head lolled against something hard. Eyelashes fluttering, a small groan slipped out from between chapped lips as she straightened out a bent leg, the sloshing sound of water reaching her ears.

Blinking herself back to consciousness, she took in the rippling clear water she lay submerged in with confusion, slowly becoming aware of the gentle brush of ice against her skin as her sodden clothes hung heavily off her buoyed body. She fully came to with a large splash as she bolted upright, pale hands gripping the curled sides of the clawfoot tub. 

Lips trembling, Lena reached up and brushed wet strands of hair out of her face, blinking owlishly as ice bobbed in the ebbing of the small waves her abruptness had created. A shiver ran through her as her knuckles whitened where she clutched the tub, and her eyes landed on the figure that stood nervously in the doorway.

Cape swishing around her calves as she moved towards the tub and dropped down to one knee, Kara looked at her with wide, anxious eyes, teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she gripped the side of the tub.

“Hey,” Kara murmured, relief and shy warmth colouring her tone, “you’re awake.”

“What- how did I-”

With a wan smile, Kara gave her a scrutinising once-over as Lena trembled in the icy bath water, feeling blue from the cold, yet mercifully refreshed and clear-headed. Wiping water off her face, Lena felt her cool skin as she kept her sharp eyes trained warily on Kara.

“You fainted,” Kara told her with a sheepish smile, “I think- well, it was my fault. Obviously, I’m, uh, I’m hotter than you - speaking purely temperature-wise, of course - so the, uh, the baby … I guess her temperature is warmer too? And then there was the kinesthetic bond and-”

“The  _ what?” _

Pale eyebrows rising slightly, Kara’s blue eyes widened a fraction and she cocked her head to the side, surprise evident in the softening of her features. “Oh, that wasn’t in your files? I guess your brother didn’t know about that.”

Her brow crumpled with a thoughtful expression, a clouded look in her eyes as she stared down at Lena’s stomach hidden beneath her soaked clothes and the bobbing ice cubes. Looking back up, Kara met Lena’s expectant gaze and her troubled expression smoothed out into one of gentle concern.

“It’s called Aos-Kolir. I don’t know how that would translate in English,” Kara said, pursing her lips as she contemplated for a moment, before shrugging dismissively, “it’s like … the baby touch, I suppose. It’s sensory information between me and the baby, almost like I can  _ touch _ her senses. I think she reacted to me being close for the first time, and … well, you passed out.”

“Good to know. Now, can you leave so that doesn’t happen again?” Lena brusquely replied, bracing herself against the sides of the bath and pushing herself up.

Water rocked back and forth in gently cresting waves, ice clinking against the enamelled sides, and Lena pressed a hand against her stomach, wet shirt clinging to her like a second skin. The bump was more pronounced, and she could see the curiosity in Kara’s eyes as she watched closely, a yearning in the planes of her face as she fluidly rose to her feet, cape swishing around her shoulders as she stepped back from the tub.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Kara hedge, moving over to the towel rack and fetching one.

Lena begrudgingly stared at the offered towel as she clambered out of the bath, giving Kara a sideways glance as she watched her struggle to resist reaching out to help her. Taking the towel, Lena gave her a dark look, rubbing the wet ends of her hair as she dripped onto the bath mat.

“I already told you,” Lena softly said, “I have nothing to say to you.”

With a pleading look, Kara reached out and then let her hand fall limply back to her side, shoulders slumped with defeat as she gave Lena such a mournful look. Avoiding her eyes, Lena busied herself with wrapping the towel around herself, her skin already starting to dry now that she was out of the relief the cold water brought her.

“Lena, please,” Kara urgently pressed, stepping into her path to block the exit from the bathroom as Lena started towards the door.

Blinking in surprise, Lena gave her a hard look and Kara thrust her hands out, keeping her at bay. Unwilling to get any closer in case the fetus reacted to Kara’s presence again and left her prone on the bathroom floor with another raging fever, Lena stood rooted to the spot, spine stiff and shoulders rigid.

“You can’t do this alone,” Kara warned her, voice low and fearful. “I mean, you probably  _ can _ , being you, but it’s- this is dangerous. So dangerous. Earth hasn’t created the right equipment for someone to carry a baby like  _ this _ . You need Kryptonian technology; you need Argo City. A red sun. Let me take you to my home, just until the baby is born, and then-”

“No,” Lena flatly refused.

Anger reddened Kara’s cheeks as she stood her ground with her usual stubbornness she held for Lena. It was one of the things Lena had first loved most about her, that Kara was always so determined to see the best in her, to push her to do the right thing because of her absolute faith in Lena. Normally, it was a heartwarming feeling, to know that Kara was always on her side, always wanted the best for her, but Lena’s wounded pride couldn’t handle it at the moment.

“You-”

She strode towards Kara, cutting her off as she brushed past her shoulder before she stumbled slightly at the searing heat the burned in her stomach. Letting out a hiss of pain, Lena doubled over, sweat beading on her forehead, and she felt Kara’s hand like a branding iron against her lower back.

_ “Don’t touch me.” _

At the low, harsh sound of Lena’s voice, Kara recoiled, her touch vanishing and leaving Lena’s back feeling suddenly cold as she braced her hands against her knees and breathed slowly.

“I think … this speaks for itself,” Lena said through clenched teeth, “I shouldn’t be around you right now.”

“I only want to help you,” Kara hoarsely replied from across the bathroom, her words coloured with hurt and yearning.

Lips pressed together in a bloodless line, Lena straightened up and wiped the edge of her towel across her forehead with a shaky hand. Slowly rounding on Kara, Lena gave her a bleak look, full of pain and heartache.

“Haven’t you done enough already?” Lena wearily asked, her shoulders drooping with defeat and exhaustion as she dripped bathwater all over the tiled floor. “I’m  _ tired _ , Kara. I don’t want to fight with you, I just- I want you to go. I don’t want to see you anymore. It hurts too much.”

“You’re going to hurt yourself! You need someone with you, to help.  _ Look _ at you! If I didn’t put you in the bath, your core temperature would’ve been so high that it would’ve torn through your body! What if your organs failed and no one was here to help you?”

Making a low sound of frustration at the back of her throat, Lena scowled at Kara, jerking her chin forward in a mulish manner as she ignored the concern on Kara’s face.

“If you weren’t here to interfere and  _ cause _ my core temperature to rise, I wouldn’t have been in this mess in the first place,” Lena replied in a clipped tone.

“You have  _ no _ idea what you’re getting yourself into, do you?” Kara quietly asked, an incredulous note in her voice as she gave her a searching look. “That baby is-”

_ “Mine,” _ Lena snapped, feeling her face warm from the heat stoked inside her as it spread throughout her body, drying the beads of water that clung to her skin. “It’s  _ mine _ , so  _ I _ get to decide what  _ I _ do. Not you, or anyone else.”

Raking her fingers through her hair in frustration, Kara’s face crumpled slightly as she grit her teeth in a pained grimace. Huffing, she scrubbed a hand over her face and moved towards Lena, a hand out as she gestured vaguely towards the swell of her stomach with an urgent look in her eyes.

“It will  _ snap _ your bones, she’ll break you apart from the inside out. Your organs will shut down, one by one as she feeds off you like a  _ parasite _ . Do you  _ know _ how many calories I have to consume a day to keep my body running? This isn’t a normal child, she’s-” 

Kara faltered for a moment, eyes widening as her lips parted, a short exhale falling from them as if she was hit with the shocking revelation once more. Swallowing thickly, Kara clenched her hand into a fist and let it drop back to her side, shaking her head with a sorrowful cast to her features.

“She’s like me.”

With a scoff of laughter, Lena gave Kara a rueful smile, lip curling slightly as she arched an eyebrow. “I should hope not.”

Wincing as if she’d been slapped, Kara pressed her lips together in grim resignation, inclining her head. 

“I know your opinion of me,” she murmured, quietly cracking her knuckles in a nervous manner. “But I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to kill yourself over your own stubborn pride for a child you see as nothing more than a science experiment.”

This time it was Kara’s turn to move towards the door, with Lena blocking the way, and it was Lena’s turn to stop her, bony hand flashing out to grip the blue fabric of Kara’s suit. Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her fingers around her muscular biceps, and Lena looked up, meeting her eyes as anger smouldered inside her. 

She felt hot and sick, nausea bubbling up within as her throat and mouth felt dry and gravelly, yet she withstood the effects of standing beside Kara just for a moment longer, bearing it for the sake of her pride. Kara stilled beneath her touch, a question in her eyes, and Lena looked at her with such anger and sadness that she drew in a sharp breath, her expression softening with a silent plea.

“Don’t presume to think you know my reasons for doing this,” Lena softly warned her, a flash of coldness in her eyes to match the bristling hardness of her body as she rigidly stood in a puddle of water. “You clearly don’t know me well at all, and I  _ certainly _ don’t know  _ you.” _

Slowly, Lena pried her fingers from Kara’s arm, their eyes locked for a moment longer as they dwelled in the thick tension, before Kara’s fingertips brushed against Lena’s stomach. It was such a surprise that Lena’s eyebrows rose involuntarily, her lips parting as her breathing hitched and a nauseating squirming inside her reacted to the hot pinpoints of pressure felt through the wet silk of her shirt.

“I’ll come when you need me.”

With that final promise, Kara swept out of the room, leaving Lena alone and shockingly cold all of a sudden. The urge to cry crept up on her and Lena blinked away the stinging feeling behind her eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath as she found herself brimming with frustration. Refusing to vent her pent up feelings, she resorted to slamming the bathroom door shut with a resounding bang as it settled in its frame before she dropped the wet towel and stalked back over to the bath.

Feeling keyed up and unclean, she pulled off her damp clothes with trembling fingers, a lump in her throat as her heart fluttered in her chest, growing increasingly vexed as her clumsy fingers took too long before she climbed into the tub of cold water. Her breath caught in her throat at the iciness that reached to her knees, before she lowered herself into it, submerging herself in the stinging coldness as ice clinked together.

It helped clear her mind as she stewed in her feelings, her body temperature lowering once more until she was almost shivering, lips trembling ever so slightly, skin prickling with goosebumps, and wrenched herself out of the water. Feeling clean and appropriately cool, Lena climbed out of the tub and fetched another towel.

Padding through the house, she pulled clean clothes out of her steamer trunk of belongings at the end of the trestle cot and felt her stomach strain against the thin cotton of the tight t-shirt. Looking down with a brooding pout on her face, Lena delicately ran her fingertips over the bump and felt the alien swimming feeling in her stomach as it moved around inside her, feebly kicking and making her stomach lurch.

“We don’t need her, do we little specimen?” Lena whispered, the words coming out sad and unconvincing. “It’s just you and me; we only need each other.”

She tried to add more conviction to her words, willing it to be true, but in the sprawling mansion with no one but an AI and a terrifyingly strong fetus that could at any moment develop laser vision and burn its way through her, Lena felt loneliness wash over her. And yet, her contrary nature meant that she wouldn’t yield.

And so, she made her way to the kitchen and weighed out precisely ninety grams of brown rice and set it on to boil, before setting about weighing fresh vegetables and a piece of salmon as she verbally logged it all with  _ Hope _ . Dinner was a lonely affair, taken beneath the wan fluorescent lighting in her makeshift living quarters as Lena forced down the meal with glum resolution.

“Hope,” she called out once she was finished, curling up in an old wingback armchair with a pregnancy book in her hands, “turn on my playlist and log thirty minutes.”

_ “Yes, Miss Luthor.” _

The comforting sounds of classical music softly drifted from various speakers, and Lena leant back in her chair, settling into the familiar routine of reading aloud to the fetus as she tried to wind down. She was finding it more difficult than usual, her muscles taut and her mind straying from the sentences on how to correctly swaddle a baby she slowly enunciated to help soothe the fetus, and a headache started to blossom at her temples. 

With a forceful sigh, Lena closed the book and rubbed the tender spots either side of her eyes, eyelashes fluttering as her eyes drifted closed, and fell into a breathing technique she’d implemented as part of her plan to destress where Kara was concerned. The confrontation had rattled her though and Lena felt drained from it, although her mind was far away from any thoughts of sleep.

She didn’t sleep that night, and, after an hour of tossing and turning on the narrow bed, she resorted to wandering the dark hallways of the mansion. It was silent, except for the groaning and creaking that old houses were wont to do, and Lena felt restless and antsy as she wandered, silvery moonlight streaking in through tall arched windows and painting everything shades of grey. 

By dawn, as the sky was lightening to violet, to lavender, to periwinkle, she was hollow-eyed and heavy-limbed, staring listlessly out the window as she watched the trees sway in the wind and morning arrive. A heaviness in her heart weighed Lena down as she finally turned away and shuffled back through the house, feeling the baby squirm inside her. 

With the light of a new day, and the disgruntlement of a sleepless night, Lena measured out her routine breakfast with the determination of someone who resolved to be right. It didn’t matter what Kara thought; Lena  _ wanted _ her child. Whether it tore her apart and consumed her, it mattered very little to Lena. 

She felt fiercely protective of the prospect of a baby, the mere idea of it warming her in the lonely hours as she coveted the unconditional love of someone she loved too. Lena wanted someone to see her and only see the good she had to offer, to depend on her without questioning whether or not they could, who didn’t even know about her past and her family. Her daughter would be cherished above everything else, a small miracle of science, and Lena would love her with every fibre of her being, making sure she wanted for nothing.

Of course, Kara would  _ have _ to factor in somewhere. Lena wasn’t looking to keep their child away from her, knowing that despite the animosity between her and Kara, Kara would love their daughter all the same. Although she had the means to fight for sole custody, Lena wouldn’t deny her child two parents when it was clear that Kara had already staked her claim too. A half-alien baby, one that would grow into unfathomable powers and need guidance on such matters, would need to know about Krypton, about its culture and her powers beneath a yellow sun, and as much as Lex had cobbled together in his research, his knowledge was a raindrop compared to Kara’s ocean of information.

It made Lena bristle and chafe at the thought of sharing with Kara, not one to have ever had to share anything in her life - not even Lillian’s attention, which she’d quickly realised was solely reserved for Lex - but she reluctantly accepted it nonetheless. When the time came, when she went into labour and the baby was born, she would play fair. But until then, it was her problem to deal with as she saw fit.

Until then, all thoughts of Kara were pushed to the back of her mind - or at least Lena made the pretence of doing so, catching her mind straying towards her in quiet moments - and Lena focused her attention solely on her science experiment.  _ That _ was her most pressing concern, and as she wasted away, bones pressing through her skin as the fetus consumed more calories than her careful meal plan provided, as her stomach protruded, more and more, and she sweat through the blankets night after night, she grit her teeth and shouldered through it with the bull-headed determination of the self-destructive.

Two months passed by without so much as a whisper from Kara, although Lena couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that she was being watched over from a distance. Instead, she’d been pestered with calls and messages from her old friends,  _ Kara’s  _ friends - for the first week at least, until she’d switched her phone off for good - and tightened the security around the estate even more so than she already had. 

By the time she was six months along, her life had taken on a bleak repetition that had consumed Lena. Each waking moment was part of the experiment, as were the moments she slept, each morsel of food, sip of water, trip to the bathroom and step were logged into her database, and each day, Lena stooped a little lower for it. 

It was abundantly clear through her progress reports compared to the averages of human pregnancies that the fetus was small. Not just below average, but greatly under-developed by comparison, yet despite that, at six months along, it was  _ heavy _ . Her back ached non-stop, despite the relative smallness of her bump, and there was the weighted feeling as if she’d swallowed a heavy stone, pulling her down from the centre of her being. She walked with hunched shoulders, gravity laying claim to her body, and spent hours soaking in hot water or pressing heat pads to her tender muscles, grumbling to her stomach with tender admonishments.

And then there was the strength, undoubtedly inherited from Kara, much as they’d both feared. Quickly, the stretched skin of her bump became mottled green, purple, yellow and black as the fetus’ legs further developed. The skin of her stomach was painted every possible shade of a bruise. It pained her to feel the press of those arms and legs inside, to feel it moving around like some insidious creature with malicious intents, and Lena found herself frightened at times, bent over, sweat beading on her brow as it moved and she tensed, waiting for the sharp pain to cut through her stomach as a hand or foot bulged out of the skin.

Those moments were sharp reminders to her that this was a baby unlike any other, and it curbed Lena’s fonder thoughts of an angelic child full of sweetness and fragile humanness. There was no denying the fact that she was bringing a dangerous being to life, one that would just as quickly rip its way out of her as lay in wait for Lena to remove it herself, and it sobered her, that reminder that she was a scientist, first and foremost. She might entertain thoughts of motherhood, and worry that she was sorely inadequate for the job, but at the end of it all, her pregnancy was nothing more than an experiment.

Lena hadn’t deluded herself into thinking she would be gifted with a gentle pregnancy, full of the rosy glow and happiness at the prospect of a squalling bundle of joy, the fretful nesting as she painted a nursery and bought baby blankets and diapers. Instead, she diligently worked on the painstaking process of assembling red sun lamps to dampen the baby’s power. Of course, that came with its own concerns, and Lena spent hours conversing with  _ Hope _ to determine if it would impede the development of the fetus, and what the radiation emission would need to be for it to be effective.

“Hope, can you check the projected growth rate with the new parameters?”

_ “Yes, Miss Luthor. Projecting growth rate now.” _

Bracing herself against the edge of a work table as she wiped at her forehead with a small cloth, Lena drew in a deep breath. Over the past few weeks, her clothes had dwindled from fine silk shirts and tailored pants that she barely fit in, to leggings and tank tops as her temperature sky-rocketed and her belly outgrew her clothes. Now, she was down to sports bras and elasticated shorts, and still, sweat dampened her skin, no matter how high she kept fans turned on. It was like a furnace was stoked inside her, battling against the wintry cold of her makeshift quarters.

Reaching for a bottle of water, Lena took a sip as her eyes watched the calculations appear on one of the screens. She set it back down and slowly rounded the table, crossing her arms over her chest as she stopped in front of the screen, lips slightly pursed.

“The birth weight is lower,” Lena mused. “And the gestation period is moved forward two weeks. The fetus is already underdeveloped as it is; premature birth and low UV exposure could be detrimental in the long-run.”

_ “That is correct. However, Miss Luthor, there are other variables that have not been accounted for.” _

Arching an eyebrow as her lips twitched with a droll smile, Lena bristled slightly at the insinuation that her experiment was flawed. Softly clearing her throat, she jerked her chin forward slightly, brusquely replying.

“And what might they be, Hope?”

_ “The projected growth rate is reliant on the fetus’ requirement of a normal human’s UV exposure under a yellow sun. Moderately higher levels of UV radiation exposure from a yellow sun can have positive effects on the fetal growth rate for a human fetus, but for a Kryptonian fetus with exposure to lower levels of UV radiation from a red sun, levels could be significantly lower.” _

“I’ve accounted for that. The calculations are factored in at a mid-point between what a human and a Kryptonian require for normal development, with a margin of error.”

_ “Yes, but the projected growth rate is also reliant on a human gestation period. There is no information in your brother’s files to confirm the standard length of a Kryptonian pregnancy.” _

Falling silent for a moment, Lena pressed her lips into a flat, bloodless line, skin flushed and face gaunt as she stared at the screen with blank indifference. Her eyes were hollowed out by exhaustion and she felt her skin prickle with uncomfortable heat, sweat sliding down the bumps of her prominent spine.

“Show me a timeline with the outcome of average fetal size.”

_ “Calculating timeline. Miss Luthor, here is the timeline requested.” _

A new graph replaced the old one on the screen, with an endpoint of a fetus on-track for the average development and size of an infant at delivery. Except the timeline was greater than Lena had anticipated, blanching at the sight of it, before she narrowed her eyes again in suspicious disbelief.

_ “Sixty weeks?” _ she hoarsely demanded, mouth going dry at the thought. “I can’t carry this fetus for  _ sixty _ weeks! It’ll kill me long before then.”

_ “That is the calculated timeline it would take for the fetus to fully develop in the womb - in accordance with average human fetus development. The estimated weight is far greater-” _

With a choked laugh, Lena’s eyes widened as she stepped back from the screen, a hand straying to the protruding bump, “I can see that.  _ Sixteen pounds?” _

_ “That is my calculation.” _

Making a distressed sound at the back of her throat, Lena shook her head, brushing damp hair out of her face as her stomach lurched. All at once, she was struck with the horrifying reality of her situation, of an outcome she hadn’t expected and hadn’t planned for.

“I can’t be pregnant for  _ that _ long! I have projects, I have a business, I-  _ damn _ it, specimen.”

She directed the quiet growl at the end towards her stomach as she cupped it in her hand, a scowl creasing her brow. 

“Your mother was right; you really are a little parasite.”

Panic welled up inside and threatened to overwhelm her, and Lena turned her back on the screen, trying to calm herself. Pacing away, a dull ache in her lower back making her grimace with discomfort, Lena grit her teeth together as conflicting emotions warred within her. Of course, she’d been aware of the risks at the beginning, and had chosen to stick by her decision to carry out the pregnancy to full-term, but the thought of her body under that much duress made her fear that perhaps it would give in before she reached full term.

Over a  _ year _ was a lot longer than she’d been planning on having a baby suck the life out of her, squeezing her organs and consuming all of her nutrients. She could barely sleep now as it was, and the experiment was wearing her out, with its constant logs and measurements, prodding herself for blood and tissue samples all in the name of science and discovery. 

Blinking back the prickling feeling building behind her eyes, Lena came to a stop on the opposite side of the room, teeth worrying at her chapped lips before she let out a choked up breath that sounded more like a sob. The baby reacted to her distress as she braced herself against the wall, feverish forehead pressed against the cool wood panelling as her face twisted with nauseous discomfort.

“Easy,” Lena murmured, her hand brushing her stomach, “it’s okay.”

Another sharp jab made her make a low sound of discontent at the back of her throat as she tried to breathe slowly, banishing her panic before it settled in for the evening, yet the restless movements inside her were distracting. Irritation rose within Lena and she found her temper flaring up, with no one to blame except for the squirming baby, reacting to her own fluctuating moods.

“I don’t have the answers, okay!”

There was another insistent kick, eliciting a hiss of pain and quiet grumbling as Lena rubbed the tender spot, sure to bear a fresh bruise come morning, and she felt the pressure behind her eyes build up. Throat constricting, her voice broke as she responded to the kick, as if she and the baby were having a conversation, the kicks speaking to Lena’s stubbornness and doubts.

“I don’t  _ want _ to call her. I don’t _need_ her help; I can figure out the answers by myself.”

Another painful kick made her double over, a low growl of annoyance falling from her lips as she bared them in a snarl, eyes bright with pain. Hands on her knees, she felt heat radiate from her core, the biting wind of the speeding fans a warm summer’s breeze for all the relief it offered her against the intense fever that swept through her, as if the fetus was flushed with anger at Lena’s reluctance to bend her pride and ask Kara for help.

Whether that was true or not, Lena was seized by desperate helplessness as she dropped hard to her knees, hard enough to bruise, back bowed as she hunched forward, shoulders heaving with the effort of her shallow breaths as she breathed through the pain. Falling back, her jutting shoulder blades pressed against cold wood, she sat with her knees drawn up to her chest on either side of the protruding bump, her forehead beading with sweat as she let her head loll to the side and look at the thin wrist with the bulky watch wrapped around it, too loose and out of place.

Muttering a quiet curse to herself, Lena swallowed thickly, stamping down her pride as she jerked her chin forward in a haughty manner, before she flipped open the watch face and let her finger hover over the small button hidden inside. With a heavy, spent sigh, she pushed it and let her head fall limply back against the wall, waiting.

The door opened a moment later, as if Kara had been standing on the other side, waiting to be called in, and Lena looked at her with a morose look of resignation. Shoulders slumping, she reached up and brushed damp wisps of hair off her forehead, feeling sweat trickle down the side of her neck, and drew in a shuddering breath as Kara silently crossed the room, wary like she was confronted by a wild animal and didn’t want to startle Lena.

Dropping down to one knee before her, red cape pooling on the floor, Kara stared at her aghast, eyes wide with horror as they roamed over Lena’s painfully thin face, all sunken and hollow. She reached out and cupped the side of Lena’s neck in a searing hot palm, her thumb achingly tender as she traced the sharp curve of a cheekbone, wordless grief etched into the lines of her face.

“I need- I need you to-” Lena hoarsely managed to get out from between parched lips, roughly clearing her throat as she drew in a sharp breath.

And then there was another kick, harder this time as if the baby was trying to get  _ Kara’s _ attention. The pain of it made Lena’s vision blacken for a moment, her face blanching as the blood drained from it and she let out a pitiful cry, a hand flying to her ribcage. Her face twisted with agony and Kara’s eyes widened even more as she reached for her, having heard the quiet sound of bones cracking, a look of something akin to revulsion on her face as she looked down at the unmistakable bump.

Blinking owlishly for a moment, eyes bright and alert, Lena opened her mouth to say something, before her whole body went slack, like a puppet with its strings cut. Limp and unresponsive, she slumped at the base of the wall and panic gripped Kara’s heart. She could hear Lena’s as clear as day, as well as the baby’s, both as fast as hummingbird wings, yet strong, which was a relief, but she still wasted no time scooping Lena up as gently as possible.

She was featherlight, even with Kara’s strength, her ribs visible like the peaks and valleys of a series of small ridges, head lolling in the crook of the Kryptonian’s muscled arms, and Kara swallowed her panic as she held her close, safely. And with that, she was gone in a blur of blue and red and a cold breeze to ruffle Lena’s hair, shooting through the front doors of the sprawling estate and up into the sky without pause. Fingers fleetingly finding her ear, Kara activated the small earpiece as she streaked northwards.

“Alex, meet me at the Fortress of Solitude.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What are we supposed to do next?”

“I don’t know,” Alex murmured, adjusting one of the red sun lamps shining weakly on Lena’s unconscious form.

Worry creased Kara’s brow as she lingered a safe distance away from the weakly emitted radiation, chewing on her thumbnail as she anxiously waited for Lena to wake up. It had already been two days since Kara had rushed her to the Fortress of Solitude, painfully thin and burning up. She’d passed out in her arms and hadn't woken since.

“But what am I supposed to do, Alex?”

_ “Kara,” _ her sister impatiently snapped, voice hoarse with tiredness and eyes ringed with dark circles,  _ “I don’t know.  _ I’m trying my best, okay?”

“Okay.”

Swallowing the knot of fear trapped in her throat, Kara fidgeted restlessly, feeling the effects of two sleepless nights as much as Alex clearly was. Her whole body felt wrung out and heavy, eyes burning with the effort of staying open, and yet Kara didn’t close them, not even for a second.

They were trained on Lena, gripped by the horrifying sight of her, stomach grotesquely swollen and cheeks sallow and gaunt. Her eyes were sunken hollows, lashes fluttering every so often as she squirmed from bad dreams, out cold on the slab of ice. Kara’s cape lay below her to offer a buffer between the freezing ice, yet allowing Lena’s clammy skin to cool, fighting off the fever that tore through her. She went through bouts of sweats and chills, and Kara was left to idly stand by and let Alex tend to her.

Her skin, ordinarily pale, was positively ghostly and Kara’s eyes traversed the thin green veins, visible beneath her translucent skin, gripped by the strong urge to take Lena’s bony hand in her own and warm it with her burning touch. Instead, Kara raked her fingers through her lank hair and hoped she’d wake soon. The hushed quietness of beeping medical equipment clipped to Lena’s body sounded small and foreboding in the cavernous fortress, and Kara was starting to panic.

“I’m going to check with Kelex and see if there’s any information that can help.”

Alex gave her a ghost of a smile as she filled a syringe with a clear fluid and gently picked up Lena’s limp hand in her gloved one. A cannula was already taped to the back of it, the needle slid into a green vein that branched up the back of her hand, stark against her porcelain skin, and Alex injected the tip of the needle into it, pushing down on the plunger.

“What’s that?”

“A nonopioid analgesic. To help with the pain.”

“Right.”

“You should sleep.”

Kara scrubbed a hand over her face and shook her head, cupping her chin in her hand as she looked at Lena. She was restless and agitated, impatient for her to wake up so that Kara would know how to help her. How to properly help her. 

So far, they’d managed to keep her hydrated through an IV taped to the crook of her elbow and feed her through a tube in her stomach. The thought made Kara’s stomach twist with revulsion, but it had been necessary. Lena had been half-starved when she’d flown her in, bones digging into her arms as she’d cradled her small body, and it broke her heart to see how poorly she’d been taking care of herself. The baby had all but sucked the life out of her.

“You sleep,” Kara softly insisted, giving Alex a solemn nod of reassurance. “Get some rest and I’ll watch over her.”

“Okay. If anything changes, come and wake me.”

“Sure.”

Alex gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she passed her by, pausing at her side for a moment as she tried to meet her eyes, yet Kara just stared stoically ahead at Lena’s body. With a soft sigh, Alex dropped her hand and carried on her way, moving to an antechamber where a trestle bed had been set up for their use. Kara hadn’t made use of it yet, and it showed in the bruise coloured shadows beneath her eyes.

Moving towards Lena’s side, Kara reached out and rested her hand against Lena’s forehead, as much to check her temperature as it was out of tenderness, and then Kara’s eyes flickered to the swell of the bump. Despite her worry, warmth blossomed in her chest, and she was overcome with emotions as she listened to the fast heartbeat of her unborn child. One she never imagined she’d have.

_ “Ehl fidh i ehrosh :divi — ehl kypzrhig i raogrhys.” _

The prayer quietly rolled off her tongue as Kara’s face twisted with distress, heartache gripping her as she stood silently beside Lena, her mind turning over the Kryptonian words. It had been a long while since she’d had something to pray for, something to need strength for, to help bear the burden, yet now she couldn’t help but feel remorse for Lena’s state. 

Although Lena had forced her to leave, Kara felt guilty for not pressing her on the matter, for not pushing to stay. She should’ve put her foot down and stubbornly insisted that she be there, regardless of Lena’s feelings towards her. Keeping her distance and eavesdropping from a safe distance, Kara had managed to placate her frayed nerves, assuring herself that Lena and the baby were both okay, but she’d been wrong. 

Removing her hot hand from Lena’s clammy forehead, Kara retreated a safe distance away so as not to disturb her or the baby in their precarious state. Standing a dozen feet away, she slowly paced back and forth, fiddling with her hands as she brooded over her wrongdoings, of how she could’ve handled it better and how she could make it up to Lena.

She was still mulling it over when she heard Lena’s heart rate pick up on the monitor and the sharp intake of breath that accompanied someone waking up. Pausing in her pacing, Kara’s head whipped around to look at the supine figure starting to rouse and felt her mouth go dry.

“Where am I?” Lena rasped, her voice faint and feeble as she shifted on the fabric of Kara’s cloak.

Head lolling back and forth, her eyebrows drew together in a severe frown, making her face seem even thinner as she clenched her teeth, muscles jumping in her jaw. Face twisting with pain and nausea, Lena’s lashes fluttered before her eyes opened into narrow slits of green, confused and sluggishly worried as she struggled to come to.

Kara was at her side in a flash, feeling her fingertips tingle as a strange sense of loss washed over her in close proximity to the sun lamps. She reached out for Lena to reassure her, to let her know that she was safe, and watched as she clutched her stomach and curled inwards on herself, rolling onto her side as she hissed in pain.

Recoiling, guilt clawed at Kara as her eyes widened with fear, teeth ground together with enough force to crack them, if she hadn’t moved away from the dampening lamps. Her mouth was dry and Kara licked her lips as she flexed her fingers, fighting the itching urge to move back towards her.

“You’re safe, Lena,” she softly called out. “It’s Kara. You’re safe.”

Scrabbling at the oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose, Lena quietly groaned, pushing herself up against the ice bench and blinking slowly, a dazed, distant look in her eyes. Hand extended, Kara winced as a flutter of panic turned her stomach.

“No- Lena, stay where you are. Don’t move. Don’t take the mask off.”

Of course she didn’t listen, clawing the mask off with clumsy fingers and ripping half a dozen wires from her arms, chest and face as she swung herself up into a sitting position. Swaying, her eyes widened, pupils blown, before she hung her head, a hand pressed to her temple as her shoulders curled inwards.

Silently cursing, Kara crept forward, hand reaching out as if to calm Lena, her footsteps crunching on fragments of ice as she eyed her warily. “Lena? Can you lay back down for me? Please. You’re very weak. The baby is in distress.”

“The baby,” Lena gasped, pressing a hand to her distended stomach, mottled purple and green with bruises.

A mewling cry of agony fell from Lena’s lips as they peeled back from her teeth, bared in pain as she squeezed her eyes shut. Slowly shaking her head, she lowered herself back down to the slab, and Kara darted in to ease her back down, cautious of her broken ribs, bandaged tightly. Lena’s system had been pumped full of painkillers, but they were clearly wearing off. 

A wave of clarity seemed to wash over Lena as she lay back down, watching Kara moved the lamps in close to her stomach, trying to counteract her closeness to the baby. Picking up the oxygen mask, Kara gently pressed it back to Lena’s face and softly smiled down at her, lines of weariness and worry radiating from the corners of her eyes as she looked down at her with surprising tenderness.

Stroking dark wisps of damp hair back from Lena’s pink face with featherlight fingertips, Kara’s eyes roamed over her face, searching and anxious. “You’re safe.”

Anger twisted Lena’s expression and she shook her head, twisting it this way and that as she dislodged herself from Kara’s touch, the mask falling from her face as Kara jerked her hand back.

_ “Where have you taken me?”  _ Lena roughly asked, voice dry and gravelly.

Moving towards a pitcher of water and an empty glass, Kara sloshed some into it with a trembling hand, clearing her throat as she moved back over to Lena’s side. Reaching out, she cradled the back of Lena’s head and pressed the glass to her lips, murmuring quiet urgings for her to drink as Lena stared up at her with hard, accusing eyes.

Setting the cup back down, Kara braced herself against the edge of the slab, coldness biting into her fingers as she gave Lena a grim look. “The Fortress of Solitude. Don’t worry, I would never take you off-planet without your permission. Although, we should speak more about your options when you’re stronger.”

With a scornful bitter sound at the back of her throat, Lena sucked on her teeth and let out a huff of laughter. “That’s very presumptuous. I have nothing to say to you, and there’s  _ certainly _ nothing you can say to me that could change my mind.”

Pushing herself up again, struggling against the weakness of her spindly arms, Lena slumped, her face turning grey as she pressed a hand to her bandaged ribs. Her lips were a flat, bloodless line, eyes bright with pain, and she shot Kara a look of blame.

“You have two broken ribs,” Kara meekly explained.

“I’m going home.”

Heaving herself up, despite her protesting body, Lena swung her legs over the side of the slab and all but fell off it, her feet biting into the frozen floor. She bit back a wince of pain at the stinging coldness the burrowed up through her feet and into her bones and looked down at the tubes disappearing inside her, securely taped into place. 

With shaky fingers, Lena reached for the edge of the surgical tape and started to tear one strip off, before a burning vice encircled her thin wrist and forced her to stop. Head jerking up, Lena gave Kara an affronted look and tried to pull her wrist out of her grasp, but Kara held fast, her grip gentle yet firm as her eyes flashed a warning.

“Don’t. You could give yourself a bladder infection or-”

“Don’t  _ preach _ to  _ me. _ You’re no doctor.”

With a quiet chuckle, Kara flashed her a wan smile, “and neither are you.  _ But _ Alex is. Wait for her to wake up and she can remove it all for you.”

“I don’t have my M.D., but I know enough about medicine to remove a few  _ tubes.” _

The scorn in her voice made Kara let go of her, frustration needling at her as her brow furrowed together. Concern was etched into the lines of her face and she opened and closed her mouth a few times before she managed to reply.

“Lena,  _ stop!” _ she blurted out as Lena reached for the tape again.

Livid and flushed, Lena gave her a derisive look, lip curling with contempt as her face hardened. “I don’t need  _ you _ to tell me what I can and can’t do. I’m going home, and I don’t need your permission.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in the middle of the Arctic and you need me to fly you back. And, honestly, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You look … you don’t look well. I’m not going to leave you alone.”

“It’s fine. I don’t  _ need _ your help. I’ll fix it myself, just like I’ve always fixed your other messes.”

_ “My _ mess?” Kara echoed, scoffing in disbelief as her eyebrows rose towards her hairline. “You blame me for this?”

Anger welling up inside, Lena rounded on her and stepped in close, sweat prickling her lower back and heat rushing to her cheeks as the baby warmed her from the inside. Exhausted, famished and hormones raging, Lena’s temper was short, and everything she’d bottled up over the months - every thought or feeling - rose to the surface, finally spilling over and rushing out of her.

“Yes, I do,” she snapped, bringing Kara to a stop as she blinked in shock, as if Lena had slapped her. “ _ I blame you.  _ You  _ lied _ to me, for  _ years _ . I kissed you and I didn’t even know that  _ this-”  _ Lena gestured frustratedly at her stomach, “was a possibility. I didn’t get to consent to the risks that came with kissing an alien who I thought was  _ human. _ And you should’ve told me! You should’ve told me  _ after _ , if not before, and you know it. The guilt is written on your face.”

Spluttering wordlessly, mouth opening and closing, Kara’s own cheeks reddened with annoyance and chagrin, her hands balling into fists as she looked at Lena with bright eyes. They were impossibly blue and shining with a film of tears, borne out of frustration no doubt, and Lena paused in her tirade as she waited. It occurred to her that Kara wasn’t the person she’d thought she was, and that could be very dangerous for her if she pushed her too far, yet Lena was already too far gone to rein her own temper back in.

“Well, I never asked  _ you _ to kiss  _ me! _ And I never made you keep the baby!”

Tears prickled her eyes and Lena’s throat closed up, painfully tight as she swallowed a sob that rose in her chest. Embarrassment washed over her as she looked at Kara’s blurred outline through swimming tears and let out a broken cry.

_ “Yes, you did!  _ You did the moment you betrayed me, the moment you  _ left _ me. Who else do I have? I was all alone until I met you, and you hurt me in the …  _ worst _ way imaginable, so what other choice did I have? Spend my life alone in shame over how you tricked me? How you befriended me and manipulated me,  _ used  _ me. One smile and I’d run to clean up every single mess you made for yourself, and I bet you laughed. I bet you  _ all _ laughed at how pathetic I was.”

“Do you really think so little of me?” Kara asked, breathlessly soft, a mournful slackness to her face as she stared at Lena, stunned and blinking, hands hanging limply at her sides.

_ “I think the world of you!” _

With a strangled laugh of hysteria, Lena wiped at a hot tear that spilt over and ran down her sunken cheek, ducking her head down as dark hair fell around in her in a curtain. She drew in a deep, rattling breath, feeling the fetus kick in her stomach, an agonising reminder, before she looked back up and gave Kara a bitter smile, laced with sadness and yearning.

The fight fled out of her, leaving her listless and empty, a hollowness in her chest, left behind as the anger vacated the space. Swallowing thickly, she shrugged nonchalantly, one side of her mouth curving up into a wretched crooked smile.

“I think the world of you; I always have. And you … you made a fool out of me when you knew how I felt. How I’ve  _ always _ felt about you. Do you have  _ any _ idea what it was like for me? To find out from my  _ brother _ , a man who wants you dead?  _ He _ knew before  _ me. _ And you-”

Lena choked on a laugh, gritting her teeth as she gave Kara a resentful smile, thin and lacking any humour. Drawing in a shuddering breath, Lena raked her fingers through her hair and laughed again, pitiful and raw, an agonising pain in her chest as she let her buried feelings consume her.

“And you were my best friend in the whole world, and you  _ still _ didn’t trust me. And I understand, in part, why you wouldn’t. Because of my family. I know it’s difficult for you, knowing what they’re like, what they’re capable of - and me too - but you told me time and time again that I was  _ nothing _ like them. So why did you treat me like I was? You  _ lied _ . You’re a hypocrite and a liar and I should thank you for it, because now at least I know who you really are. And to be quite honest, I find you wanting.”

Kara stared at her with so much desperation and anguish, her eyes pools of despair as she reached a hand out, aching for the touch of Lena’s burning skin, the comfort that it brought her. Instead, she let her hand fall as she gave her a pleading look. Guilt consumed her, as well as frustration, at a loss to how she could even begin to explain  _ why _ to Lena, when she’d clearly already made up her mind.

Ducking her head down, Kara fiddled with her fingers as she swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling her chest cave in as she drew in a hitching breath. Her voice was thick with tears as she replied.

“I'm not perfect; I don't pretend to be. And you saw me - Kara - for who I am. For a person, who has needs and wants and flaws, just like everyone else, but you saw Supergirl as better than, and put her on a pedestal.  You’ve always asked more of me than I knew how to give. But … I’ve cared about you since the moment we met. For as long as I can remember. We’ve been through  _ so much _ together that you- it feels like you’re a part of me. I only want what’s good for you Lena. You and our baby. So please … just let me help.”

“I don’t want your help - nor do I need it. I was doing just fine by myself before you showed up and I had my ribs kicked in.”

_ “You  _ called  _ me!” _ Kara exclaimed, disbelief colouring her expression as her eyes widened with incredulity.

“I had questions, that’s all. I didn’t mean for you to  _ kidnap me!” _

Huffing, Kara swallowed a growl of irritation as she frowned at Lena, “I didn’t  _ kidnap you. _ I brought you here to save your life! Why are you being so  _ difficult?” _

_ “Difficult? _ I’m  _ glad _ I’m difficult. I’m glad that I’m hard to deal with or understand, because at least then I know that the people who truly want to be in my life will stay. And you decided you didn’t the moment your secret became worth more than our relationship.”

“It wasn’t worth  _ more. _ Who I am was never worth more than having you in my life, but … knowing you, knowing what you’ve been through and how you’d react … of  _ course _ I didn’t want to tell you! I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me now. So full of  _ hate _ and bitterness. You meant more to me than … anything else. Keeping the truth from you is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and it broke me a little bit more each day to do it, but I did it to protect you. To protect you from me. I thought I was doing what was right.”

“But that’s just it! You’re too worried about what other people think! You’re too concerned with whether or not they like you, or if  _ they _ think you did what’s good and just, instead of worrying about whether what you do is  _ right! _ You wanted me to think you were a good hero and a good friend as two separate people, instead of thinking you were a liar, and that was  _ not _ the right thing to do. And it’s me -  _ me _ not  _ you -  _ who always has to fix everything for you. Who has to make the hard decisions and do what’s right.”

Scoffing, Kara raised her eyebrows and braced her hands on her hips, a tight smile softening her expression as she nodded. Her gaze wandered around the room as she took a moment to calm herself, chafing against Lena’s harsh words, muscles twitching in her jaw as she bit back a dozen sharp retorts.

“You have to make everything right?” Kara eventually replied, her voice low and uneven. “Is that what you think? That you’re on some higher moral ground than me?”

_ “No,” _ Lena bluntly shot back, flat and severe, “no, I think  _ you _ think you’re on some moral high ground; that pretty little pedestal has gone to your head. But it’s  _ me _ who has to do the questionable things. It’s  _ me _ who has to be your backbone and take care of your mistakes for you. It’s  _ me _ that everyone  _ despises _ because  _ I _ have to do what’s hard and what’s right. You would be dead half a dozen times at least if it wasn’t for me and what I do, even when you don’t agree with it. And you take advantage of that. You know you do. You get yourself into trouble and you call me and I come  _ running _ , and you  _ know it. _ Even if I was mad at you - at  _ Supergirl -  _ you took advantage of the fact that I would  _ still _ come, no matter how many times you doubted me or made assumptions. And you wonder why I’ve turned so bitter?”

She was fully crying now, tears running down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away, and Lena tipped her head back to keep them at bay, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes as she drew in a shuddering breath to calm herself down. Kara ached to go to her, to wrap her small frame in her arms and hold her gently, her frustration gone in a moment as she took in Lena’s misery.

Her own eyes built with the burning pressing of tears too, and Kara's tongue felt thick and clumsy in her mouth as she tried to articulate an apology. She couldn’t find the words to explain herself, her throat constricting around a lump that cut her off. It was painful, swallowing around it, and she felt a sob build in her chest, heart thudding loudly as her hands trembled. 

“I am so …  _ depleted _ by life,” Lena wearily admitted, lowering her head once more to meet Kara’s eyes, her own bloodshot and wet, eyelashes clumping together as she gave her a level stare. “I’m so bitter now, and I miss being happy all the time, like I was when I was with you. But then  _ this _ happened to me and I feel so disconnected to who I was - who  _ we _ were - and now my heart just …  _ aches. _ It aches harder than it ever has. I’m tired now. I don’t want to be in this situation anymore.”

_ “I’m sorry.” _

Kara whispered the words, low and wavering, her voice cracking ever so slightly as her lips trembled. She blinked rapidly as her eyes filled with tears, exhaustion making it hard to fight against the tide of emotions, and she gave Lena a look of such heartbreaking longing that she thought she would fall apart if she left her again.

“Kara? Lena? What’re you doing?”

Turning around at the rough sound of Alex’s sleep-filled voice behind her, Kara’s shoulders sagged as she gave her sister a wan smile, wiping casually at her eyes as she tried to hide the tears and her sadness. Gruffly clearing her throat, Kara rubbed the back of her neck and gestured vaguely with her free hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Could you take the tubes out of her, please? So I can get her home.”

_ “Home?”  _ Alex echoed, rubbing at her eyes as she squinted towards Lena, who had turned her back on them both and was bracing herself against the block of ice she’d been resting on. “She can’t go home; it’s too dangerous.”

Lacking the energy to put up another fight, Kara just shrugged vaguely and Alex gave her a pitying look. Stepping towards her, they met in the middle and Alex gripped her arm giving her a small nod, before she looked over at Lena. She raised her voice as she continued.

“How about you go and grab some food for us all while I detach everything? See if you can get Lena some clothes while you’re at it. Stop by the DEO; they’ll have some shirts big enough to fit.”

Holding her steady gaze for a moment longer, Kara slowly dipped her head into a nod as she resigned herself to the fact that there was nothing more she could do to convince Lena at the moment. Her best hopes right now laid with Alex, and it would be easier done if Kara made herself scarce for the time being.

Turning, she walked over to the block of ice and picked up her cape, shaking it off and swinging it around her shoulders to attach it to her suit. Casting a sideways glance at Lena, Kara adjusted the cape around her and then turned away.

“I’ll be back soon.”

The cavern was silent, except for Kara’s crunching footsteps as she walked towards the door, and slipped outside. 

As soon as she was gone, it was like the last reserves of energy fled out of Lena’s body and she slumped against the bench, knees buckling as she caught herself on the edge. Her relief was palpable and her lips trembled as sorrow rose within.

Alex’s gentle touch gripped her arms and Lena looked at her with accusations in her eyes as she was helped to her feet and ushered back up onto the block of ice. It was freezing beneath her, the warm barrier of Kara’s cloak sorely missed as the cold seeped into the exposed skin of her lower back.

She stared up at the red glow of the sun lamps as she listened to Alex shuffling around her, avoiding her gaze as all of the cords and wires were reattached to her, monitors beeping back to life as her heart rate and blood pressure were registered.

“She’s sorry, you know,” Alex said after a few tense minutes. 

Her face was a dark shadow ringed in red light, hovering above Lena, who scowled up at her as she ground her teeth together and stuck her bottom lip forward in a stubborn pout as anger gnawed at her.

“It’s been eating her up inside, not being there for you over the past few months.”

“Yeah,” Lena said, her snarkiness faltering as her voice broke on the word and betrayed her wounded feelings, “it’s been eating me up for longer than  _ that.” _

Tears blurred her vision and Lena sighed heavily, the air leaving her lungs as her body went slack against the numbing cold of the slab. A stray tear squeezed out of the corner of her eyes as her eyelashes fluttered and she opened them once more, glowering as she tried to hold back the urge to cry. It was a losing battle.

Soft fingers wiped the tear away, and Lena shot Alex a dark look out of the corner of her eye, a shaky emptiness inside her as she turned her head to the side, away from the sad brown eyes of the woman she’d thought was a friend.

“Don’t,” Lena murmured, her cracked lips turning down at the corners. “I’m mad at you too. You lied to me as well.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex quietly apologised, returning to her work.

The sharp telltale sound of latex gloves snapping into place made Lena flinch, and then Alex came back into view, wheeling a rattling tray of medical equipment with her. She looked at Lena for a long moment before giving her a grim smile and reaching out to touch the back of her hand.

“This might be a little uncomfortable.”

“I can guarantee you I’ve had worse.”

“Right. Well … I’ll try and be quick.”

Inclining her chin as best as she could, Lena swallowed thickly and stared back up at the red glow, silently fuming about everything in her study that had been messed up due to Kara’s meddling. There was no telling what ramifications the changes could have on the outcome of the baby’s development and birth, but there was nothing she could do to change it now, and that was last on her long list of grievances with the alien.

She looked at Alex in surprise a moment later when she felt her touch against her lower back, taking in the blue surgical cloth folded over. At the realisation that Alex meant for her to lay on it, Lena willingly let her raise her slightly and felt a rush of gratitude as her numb back lay back down on the length of fabric, a welcome buffer against the cold. Now that her fever had abated slightly, she felt cold all over, her breath faintly misting before her as her skin rippled with goosebumps.

Craning her neck, Lena watched as Alex held one of the catheter tubes in place and peeled up the tape holding it in place. She hummed with satisfaction and poked at Lena’s skin, and Lena bared her teeth with unease at the strange sensation of someone touching her protruding stomach, as well as the tugging of the tube beneath the skin.

“No swelling, which is good,” Alex informed her.

Lena didn’t deign to reply and lay as still as possible as Alex worked quickly to drain the balloon and pull the feeding tube out of her. She dabbed at the site as it leaked stomach fluids, before she patched it with gauze and taped a pad over the site, moving on to the ones stuck into Lena’s bladder and bowel. The last two required a few stitches over the openings, and Lena went rigid at the prick of the needle before everything went numb. The rest of it passed quickly and in silence.

“All done,” Alex announced not ten minutes later, peeling off the gloves and dumping them on top of the tray, before she crossed her arms over her chest and fixed Lena with a disapproving stare. “And now you and I need to have a chat.”

“If you’re going to tell me to forgive her, save your breath.”

Pushing herself up, Lena ripped the IV from the crook of her elbow and then reached for the cannula in her hand, stripping wires from her chest as she went, before Alex lunged for her and encircled her wrists with her hands.

_ “Jesus, Lena! _ Will you  _ stop? _ Look at yourself.”

“Let me  _ go,” _ Lena snarled, ripping her arms out of Alex’s hands with savage roughness.

Alex grabbed her left arm again and jerked it out straight, a thin line of red blood leaking from the pinprick where the needle had been. “You’re  _ bleeding.” _

Scoffing, Lena rolled her eyes and gave her a scornful smile. “It’s barely a prick and you know it.”

“It’s not about this,” Alex barked, giving her thin arm a shake in emphasis, “it’s about you.  _ God, _ have you looked in a mirror lately? You look …  _ sick _ . I’m worried, and so is Kara.”

“I’m not a child,” Lena snapped as Alex taped a ball of cotton wool to the inside of her arm and taped it in place.

“Yeah, well, you’re not being very mature about all of this,” Alex flatly replied, lips pursed as she waved a hand at Lena’s stomach. “In case you’ve forgotten,  _ that’s _ going to be a baby in a few short months. You know what baby’s need?  _ Food. _ Do you know where they get that? Their  _ parent.” _

She poked Lena in the arm with a pointed look, and Lena grumbled dismissively as she rubbed her arm.

“You know how many calories a fully grown Kryptonian consumes a day -  _ without _ going overboard with their powers? At least ten thousand. How much have you been eating while growing a baby?”

“Second trimester is two thousand two hundred,” Lena muttered defiantly, haughtily raising her chin as she looked at Alex, “I’ve been measuring it to the gram.”

Snorting with laughter, Alex raised her eyebrows and gave her an incredulous look. “It’s not a  _ science experiment, _ Lena! It’s a  _ fetus. _ You can’t just … control its development like that.”

“Yes, I can. It’s all been perfectly calculated. Or it was until  _ she _ brought me here.”

“And look at you! Do you think you’ve been doing a good job? Because one gust of wind and you’d be swept away, in my opinion. Skin and bones won’t grow a healthy baby, so I have to ask; do you even want this baby?”

Outrage coloured Lena’s face as it reddened and her eyes darkened. Lips pressed into a flat line as her body went taut, she felt anger bubble up inside.

“Of  _ course _ I do. How could you even insinuate that I don’t.”

“Well, you’d think you’d take better care of yourself for her sake if you  _ did. _ Come on, admit it. You look  _ awful _ , and I don’t mean to be rude about it, but really, you  _ do. _ If you didn’t call Kara when you did … I don’t even want to think about what could’ve happened. Your blood pressure is low, your heart rate is low, your body mass is down, temperature is  _ incredibly  _ high. Iron is low,  _ obviously _ with all this bruising _. _ The fetus weighs as much as you do by some bizarre feat of biology and is sucking the life out of you as we speak, and you look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion.”

“Is that all?”

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Alex flatly replied, disgruntled as she packed everything up with brash movements.

“Oh, I  _ am _ . I just don’t particularly care what  _ you _ have to say on the matter, seeing as we’re not friends and this isn’t  _ your _ baby.”

Letting out a loud, cold laugh, Alex gave her a faint smile and bundled up the catheter tubes in a square of surgical cloth and shut off the flatlining machines, before she gave Lena a frosty look.

“I’m one of the few people who cares about you and is genuinely trying to help,” Alex softly replied, voice low and steady and edged with a warning, “and it might not be my baby, but it’s Kara’s. Don’t be so recklessly selfish just because you’re angry at her for trying to protect you, and me for standing by her decision.”

Biting her tongue, Lena stared after Alex as she disappeared around a cluster of ice stalagmites, bundle tucked under her arms. Swallowing past the thickness that closed up her throat, Lena swung her legs over the side of the slab and let them dangle freely as she looked up at the red sun lamp and reached out to touch it. It was cool beneath her fingertips, emitting a low dose of radiation, and she felt a feeble kick against the palm of her hand as she pressed it to her stomach.

Looking down, a wan smile stretched across her face as tears pricked her eyes, and Lena let out a choked sob of laughter as she pressed her other hand to the side, cupping the bump between them. Hunching over, she ducked her head down and caressed gentle swirls over the mottled skin, an ache in her chest as fierce protectiveness reared its head.

“Don’t worry, specimen, I’ll look after you. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Her voice was a gentle croon, tender and sweet despite the sadness that consumed her, and she hugged her arms around herself and swayed slightly, losing herself in her thoughts. The quiet crunch of ice underfoot broke her from her reverie and she whirled around, catching sight of Kara standing a short way away, sheepish and uncertain with her arms full. There was no doubt in Lena’s mind that she’d heard her talking to the bump, unintentionally eavesdropping, and a rush of embarrassment swept over her. 

Turning back around, Lena cleared her throat, looking up at the high ceiling. Clear blue like Kara’s eyes. She flinched at the thought, listening to Kara’s cautiously slow approach. Lena watched her out of the corner of her eye as she set down her armload of supplies.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as Kara unpacked two paper bags, the smell of food kindling a gnawing hunger within her as she breathed in the aroma and felt the faint warmth of steam. Still, she didn’t bite, sneaking furtive glances towards the sheer amount that rapidly piled up beside her.

And then Kara picked up a bundle of black clothes and turned to her with them extended, an achingly soft look in her mournful blue eyes that made Lena’s insides flutter and knot. 

“There’s a hot spring in here. Naturally fed by a volcano beneath the ice bed. I thought you might like to wash up before eating.”

Nodding, Lena looked down at the floor and slid off the slab, watching Kara flex and curl her fingers as she resisted the urge to reach out and help her down. Feet biting into the cold floor, Lena moved on shaky legs as Kara turned towards a carved archway disappearing further into the sprawling system of caves.

She grew warmer as she left behind the dull radiation of the red sun lamps, feeling the fetus stir inside her, and her expression twisted with unease at the sensation. Still, she didn’t utter a word as she followed at Kara’s side, down a corridor of ice and into a circular room with a series of pools. Steam curled from the surfaces of them and Lena felt a flicker of gratitude at the thought of washing the stale and antiseptic smell off her.

“Thank you,” Lena begrudgingly muttered.

“I’ll wait outside,” Kara murmured, placing the pile of clothes down on the edge of one of them. “Call me if you need help.”

Lena could tell that Kara was reluctant to leave, worried that she would slip and fall, no doubt, but she didn’t ask her to stay. Instead, she nodded and reached for a towel stocked nearby. Taking the hint, Kara paused a moment longer before retreating, each footstep prolonged as if she had to force herself to keep going.

Glancing back over her shoulder, Lena made sure she was alone and stripped off her sports bra and shorts before she stepped over the lip of the pool and submerged herself. It was mercifully warm after the chill of the slab, yet not so hot that it was uncomfortable with the heat pooling in her stomach as the fetus moved about.

It was deep enough that she could stand up to her shoulders, and she quickly ducked beneath the surface, soaking her hair and lingering in the strange stasis the water brought. She felt safe and cradled in the blueness of it, so perfectly warm and content that she would’ve been happy to stay beneath forever.

Unfortunately, her mind was otherwise distracted, thoughts of food too hard to ignore now that she knew it was waiting for her. Resurfacing, Lena grabbed soap off a small ledge carved into the side and scrubbed herself clean, relishing the feeling of washing away sweat and dirt, rubbing so hard that her arms and legs were red from her efforts. She was tender with her stomach, softly soaping the map of bruises as she traced a line from one to the other, a curious glint in her eyes as she gently pressed down on each of them. They were sore and she grumbled quietly to herself about them.

After washing her hair, she clambered awkwardly out of the pool, refusing to call for Kara’s help - not that she needed it, although it would’ve made things easier in some regards, although slightly mortifying for her - and wrapped the towel tightly around herself. 

Shaking out the collection of folded clothes, Lena took in the baggy sweatpants, soft and loose, a DEO branded t-shirt large enough to drown herself in, and a sweatshirt of the same proportions. Kara had thoughtfully brought socks, boots and packaged underwear too, and Lena dressed with glee, cherishing the softness of the fabric against her clean skin.

Her hair was a damp, tangled mess, but it was a lost cause and she was too hungry to care. Not that she had a cause to be vain at that moment; given the state she’d awoken in, a bath was a vast improvement.

Boots crunching ice underfoot, Lena emerged into the hallway and cast a cursory look at Kara, before continuing on her way. She made a beeline for the medical equipment instead of the food and started rummaging through the contents of the drawers, before coming up with gauze pads and recovering the small holes perforating her abdomen, ignoring Kara’s burning stare drilling into the back of her. 

Once she was finished, Lena turned around and drew herself up to her full height, trying to seem more confident and put together than she was. Her body felt leaden and starvation ate away at her, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to give Kara the satisfaction of being right, despite the childishness of her behaviour.

“I brought comfort food,” Kara said as Lena looked at her, quickly averting her gaze and making her hands busy with the cooling boxes of takeout. “Chicken noodle soup. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Pizza. Lasagna. Potstickers.”

“Anything with actual vegetables?”

“No, but there’s a hell of a lot of calories here, which, no offence, you need more than nutrients right now.”

Lena didn’t argue, making straight for the potstickers with a sense of victory, knowing that they were Kara’s favourite. Cradling the box in the crook of her arm, Lena picked up the chicken noodle soup as an afterthought and moved a safe distance away from Kara, to the other end of the slab. Setting down her food, she heaved herself back up onto the block of ice and swung her legs, letting her boots thud against the block as she popped the lid off the soup.

“Thank you,” Lena said after a moment, giving her a furtive glance as she accepted the spoon Kara held out to her. 

With a tentative sip, Lena had to stop herself from humming with contentedness, relishing the taste of something other than salmon, brown rice and oats. Hunger took ahold of her and she couldn’t shovel the soup down fast enough, feeling a warmth spread throughout her as she rivalled Kara’s speed, sneaking glances at her as she devoured a large pizza and got started on a second one.

Still, Lena caught her casting secretive looks of longing towards the box of potstickers pressed against her leg, and perhaps it was the chicken noodle soup softening her cold heart, or perhaps it was guilt, but Lena slid it across the slab without a word.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Kara’s head jerk up, eyes widening a fraction in surprise, before a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Thank you.”

Lena nodded in acknowledgement of the words and picked at the soft cotton of her new sweatpants as she let the food settle in her stomach. It was the first proper meal she’d had in days and her stomach ached and she was reluctant to push herself. Perhaps in ten minutes she’d risk a grilled cheese sandwich before she got Kara to fly her home.

“Lena?”

With a faint sigh, Lena brushed a tangled lock of hair behind her ear and gave Kara a tired, expected look. The thought of another fight was exhausting and she wasn’t sure her heart was in it any longer.

“I know you can do this alone. I  _ know _ you can, if you- if you do it properly. You know … eat more and rest or whatever. But … you don’t have to. You’re mad at me. I know that, and there’s nothing I can do to change your mind or make you understand- I just- I’ve missed out on so much of this already, and I’d really like to be here to help. To help  _ you _ and the baby.”

Closing her eyes, Lena felt her throat tighten with the urge to cry again, and sighed heavily, shoulders drooping as she deflated. Rubbing at her forehead, she sniffed and looked away.

“I  _ am _ mad at you, but … I’m really just angry at myself. I shouldn’t have let myself depend on you. I know people are never what I want them to be. And … I think I could’ve handled this better, but I just-”

She cut off, forlornly shaking her head as she looked down at her lap, picking at her nails as she smiled and let out a shaky laugh.

“You’re this … bright, beaming star in the sky. You drew me in with your warmth and sunshine and … you were the only thing that could drown out the screams. I would see you shine and the dark would disappear.”

With a choked laugh, half sob and self-conscious, Lena curled her hands into fists and lightly rapped her knuckles against the burning coldness of the ice as she grit her teeth, bitter and lost.

“You helped me feel something that I never thought was possible.  _ Love. _ The way you would look at me … it made me ache.”

Kara’s face was ashen when Lena peered up, a look of devastation as she looked at her with parted lips and eyes round with shock. Her lips stammered around a reply as she tried to collect her thoughts enough to respond, and Lena waited with bated breath, fear clawing at her.

“You- you never said-”

“How could I ask anyone to love me when all I did was beg to be left alone? When I was terrified of the idea. And still, when I found out- all I thought when I knew I was losing you was … it was going to hurt  _ so much. _ And it did, it still does, but I had a purpose. Something to distract me, someone that would love me in the future. But … I miss the old me. The better me. Because now I’m just sad …  _ all the time _ . And I used to feel loved but I’ve been  _ so alone.” _

She felt Kara at her side before she saw her, head jerking up at the warmth radiating towards her, the feeble kick in her stomach as the fetus got excited by the close proximity, and Lena stared at her with bloodshot eyes, shining with a film of tears as she swallowed a sob.

Slowly, skittish and wary, Kara reached out and cupped Lena’s face in her slender hands, long fingers cupped her jaw as she wiped salt tracks from Lena’s cheeks with the soft pads of her thumbs. Lena’s mouth went dry as her heart yearned for her touch, yet resented it, two halves of her heart warring with each other.

“Lena,” Kara breathed, the sound of her name laced with suffering and longing.

Shaking her head to dislodge her grip, Lena squeezed her eyes shut, face crumpling as she struggled with herself. 

“Don’t.”

“I-”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- can you take me home?”

Lena pushed herself off the length of ice and staggered, knees buckling beneath her weight, and she softly swore as Kara steadied her, hands gripping her arms. And that was all it took for Lena’s emotions to bubble over, to reduce her to tears as she went slack in Kara’s grip and allowed the startled superhero to lower her to her knees, before following her down to the ground.

Gathering her up in her arms, Kara enveloped her in her warmth as Lena let out a strangled sob into the tensile fabric of her blue suit. Stroking her dark, wet hair with a hand, Kara’s brows furrowed together with concern as Lena cried, venting all of her pent up feelings.

The sound of Alex’s heartbeat neared as Kara knelt there with Lena, softly hushing her and murmuring quiet reassurances, and she looked up to meet her sister’s dubious expression. Alex winced sheepishly and Kara gave her a reassuring nod, her face grave. Sneaking over to the slab to grab a box of pizza, Alex crept off again, looking tired and somewhat relieved that she didn’t have to be the one doing the comforting.

“I know this- this isn’t what you wanted,” Kara hoarsely murmured, struggling to keep her voice even as she held Lena a little bit tighter. “But this isn’t who you are. You’re still- you’re the same Lena -  _ my _ Lena - and it’s- everything will be alright. I know you don’t like me much right now-”

Kara let out a strained laugh, her eyes burning as she blinked up at the ceiling, shaking her head morosely, before she drew in a shuddering breath.

“But I’m right here; you’re not alone. Don’t give up on me yet, because I’m not going anywhere- I’m not going to stop trying to make it up to you. So just … keep me where the light is.” 


	5. Chapter 5

Lena didn’t leave that day, or even the following. In fact, she was still there in the Fortress of Solitude a week later, reluctantly agreeing that it was for the best if she stayed for the time being until she sorted out more appropriate plans. Despite her reservations, and her wariness around Kara, she had to admit that it was a relief to have someone looking after her. Two someone’s, in fact. 

It was cooler inside the cavern, which agreed with Lena’s raging body heat, courtesy of the fetus, and with the use of the DEO’s red sun lamps, Lena was able to rest. Under the supervision of the two sisters, she no longer adhered to the strict regime she’d had herself on, and Lena begrudgingly admitted that she felt marginally better. Plied with constant meals of everything she’d been depriving herself of, and with the hours of uninterrupted sleep and haze of painkillers for her broken ribs, she felt less prickly and drained.

Still, it wasn’t easy for her, and with Kara and Alex teaming up against her, she frequently lost every argument over the following week. Frustration growing, she’d storm off to some barren antechamber of stalactites and stalagmites and quietly cry as her emotions got the better of her, tears pricking her eyes as she dug the palms of her heels in to keep them at bay. She’d pretend that Kara couldn’t hear her quiet sniffles, and Kara was polite enough to allow her to keep her dignity. Afterwards, Lena would walk back in, stiff-backed with bloodshot eyes, and haughtily agree as if she’d come to the decision on her own.

But there was one she refused to budge on, and not out of petty spite, but out of genuine fear and apprehension. She and Kara had bickered over it back and forth, the conversation between them frosty and stunted while Alex was at work, and despite all of Kara’s gentle prompting to get her to change her mind, Lena stood her ground and flatly refused.

“I just think that being on Argo would  _ help,” _ Kara reasoned once more, exasperated as concern creased her brow. “The red sun lamps are helping so much, but that’s nothing to what a planet with a red sun could do! Think about it.”

“I have,” Lena gently replied, her lips grimly pressed into a flat line, “and I’m not being petty or doing it out of spite when I say no. Truly. I just- it’s half-human, Kara, and human babies  _ need _ radiation from a yellow sun. They need those levels to grow properly, and sure, she’s half Kryptonian but … I’m already worried that she’s had  _ too much _ exposure to the red sun lamps radiation to be healthy. Your cousin might’ve been okay with risking that without knowing the effects it could have on his child, but I’m not. And you haven’t heard from them since they’ve been there, so it’s not like I have any information to make a proper decision. I have nothing to go off of at  _ all _ with this pregnancy.”

“Oh.”

Wincing slightly, Lena felt guilt claw at her, despite her feelings towards her old friend. She didn’t want to hurt her feelings in this, knowing how badly Kara wanted her to agree, but she just couldn’t.

“It’s not just that either. It’s- you  _ know _ I’m terrified of flying, and going out into deep space … I don’t think it’d be good for me or the fetus. The atmospheric pressure, the stress. And if anything went wrong-”

“No, you’re right,” Kara interrupted, rubbing at her forehead as she ducked her head in resignation, shoulders slumped with disappointment.

Staring at her for a moment, regret twisting her stomach, Lena let out a soft sigh and smiled faintly, feeling the eager kicks in her stomach.

“You can take her there one day,” Lena murmured.

Kara looked up, surprise flitting across her face before she managed to arrange her expression into a mild look of curiosity, waiting for Lena to continue. Chewing on the inside of her lip, Lena shrugged dismissively, looking elsewhere as she pressed a hand to her stomach.

“When she’s older, you can take her to Argo. Show her where she comes from. Tell her about her customs and her history. I won’t begrudge you that.”

“Thank you,” Kara thickly replied, voice coloured with gratitude as she ducked her head in thanks.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Lena paused for a moment, scratching her nail on the block of ice she perched on, feeling the cold seep into her fingertip, prickling with painful heat before it numbed. Softly clearing her throat, she looked down, continuing to run her fingertip over the ice in featherlight circular motions as she felt her cheeks warm slightly.

“And I’ve decided to stay here. For good. I think … you were right. I  _ can _ do it alone, but … I don’t have to, and you deserve to be here for it too. If you want to.”

“I do,” Kara quickly replied, voice anxious and rough, as if she thought that Lena would rescind the offer if she didn’t seize it immediately.

Nodding again, Lena peered up at her through dark lashes, taking in the delight that softened Kara’s face, the warmth of her smile and the brightness in her eyes making her feel warm inside. 

“I have some conditions though; I’ll need all of my supplies from my family’s home set up here. Particularly  _ Hope _ .”

“Of course.”

With a grim look of resignation, Lena met her eyes and a faint smile touched her lips as she swallowed thickly, “well, I guess that’s it then.”

Hopping off the slab of ice, Lena paused for a moment, as if she was going to say something else, before she continued on her way to the room of hot springs. Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into a lukewarm pool, feeling weightless and safe as she let the water cradle her, suspended in the eerie blue light as the light above her shimmered. She felt all alone in the pool, able to think without the fretful gaze of Kara watching her, feeling her itching desire to say something, to try and fix things. It had been a trying week.

With little else to do in the fortress, having already been given stern instructions not to meddle with the places defences or equipment, Lena took her time. She dwelled in the tepid water until her skin had wrinkled and the aches in her muscles had dulled, offered a reprieve from the arduous task of walking around with a baby twice the weight of a human one hidden away inside.

Pushing a wet strand of hair out of her face as she resurfaced once more, Lena swam to the edge of the hot spring and folded her arms on the hewn side of the pool, resting her chin on top. Lazily kicking her legs out behind her as she kept herself afloat, she watched steam rise from a few of the other pools and brooded over her predicament. 

It had been over a week since she’d had the chance to analyze data from her progressing pregnancy, and she still wasn’t entirely sure how best to proceed. Clearly, her old methods hadn’t been the best approach, but she still had no idea how long she was even going to  _ be _ pregnant. Or how heavy the baby would grow to be, and what that would do to her body. There were so many factors that Lena didn’t even want to think about, and she’d been able to ignore it all before out of pride, not wanting to reach out to Kara to ask her to help fill in the blanks, but now she had to confront it all, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared.

Finally emerging from her bath, dressed in her DEO issued clothes once more, she made her way back to the main cavern to find Alex talking to Kara. Both of them trailed off into silence at her approach, and Lena eyed them warily before her eyes landed on the bags of food Alex had brought with her.

“Hamburger. Fries. Sushi. Dumplings.  _ More _ dumplings. And one korma - packed full of vegetables. As requested.”

Looking at the sheer spread of food, Lena’s eyebrows rose a fraction as she moved towards the bench of ice, the aroma drawing her in even as she feigned disinterest. Hunger had hollowed her out, and despite regular meals, with more food than she could even begin to consume, there was still a gauntness to Lena’s thin face. Still, she looked marginally better for a week of rest and recuperation, despite how she was feeling inside.

“What would you like?” Kara softly asked, turning to Lena first.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Lena moved closer, lips pursed, and took a container of korma and rice, before backing away again like a skittish animal. She eyed Alex and gave her a solemn nod.

“Thank you.”

“How’s your temperature been today?”

“One-oh-two, mostly,” Kara interjected, “it spiked to one-oh-three, but it went back down.”

“Blood pressure?”

Kara shrugged slightly, picking up two boxes of dumplings, “I haven’t heard a change.”

“Good.”

“Are you on duty tonight?”

Alex nodded as Lena perched on a low stalagmite, squared off on top, her broken ribs protesting at the movements. She popped off the top of a container, steam wafting up to her with the smell of mild spices. Her stomach rumbled in agreement of her choice and she felt the baby stir within her.

“Just stopping by before I start.”

Clucking her tongue with exasperation, Kara reached out and gave her sister’s arm an affectionate squeeze, a fondness to her grateful words as she replied. “Thank you, but you don’t have to come  _ all the way _ out to the Arctic to bring us food. You need to rest too.”

Waving a hand dismissively, Alex gave her a wan smile, “it’s no problem. I wanted to check on her anyway.”

Their eyes darted over to Lena, who raised her eyebrows slightly, digging a fork into a potato. Their gaze flitted away from her again, and she bristled slightly at the insinuation that she needed to be babysat, to be supervised like a child who couldn’t be trusted to be left alone.

“I’m fine,” Lena called out.

“You’d say that even if you weren’t,” Alex called back.

“Not with Supernanny eavesdropping on my every heartbeat,” Lena grumbled, scooping a forkful into her mouth and chewing with little enthusiasm. “Besides, hasn’t she told you I’ve already agreed to stay? It’s not like there’s anywhere on Earth I can escape to without being found again.”

“Hmph.”

There was no argument from Alex on that account and she left soon afterwards, taking the small skimmer she’d flown to the hideout back to National City for her shift. Being left alone with Kara once more, Lena felt the telltale blanket of tension descend over them as they ate in silence, a dozen feet separating them. 

The urge to say something built within Lena, until it took every inch of her to keep her mouth closed, shovelling food into her mouth to stifle any words that might’ve fallen from her lips. It was almost a relief when she was finished, after eating a burger and fries for good measure too, and Lena made a quick escape.

And then she paused. Lingering in the mouth of the hallway that disappeared through to an antechamber with the trestle bed Kara had brought for her and Alex, Lena gently bit her lip as she found herself reluctant to leave. Despite her reservations and her conflicting feelings for Kara, she couldn’t make herself leave, silently warring with herself as she stood rooted to the spot.

Eventually, she let out a faint sigh and turned around, an apprehensive look on her face as she fiddled with her fingers.

“Kara?”

Cheeks bulging with sushi, Kara paused at the sound of her name, blue eyes finding Lena’s as she made a vague sound of inquiry, a sheepish smile curling her mouth as she chewed. 

Shoulders drooping, Lena walked back into the cavern with a troubled look on her face, a slight pucker between her eyebrows as she pursed her lips. 

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said the other day. I wanted to apologise,” Lena breathlessly blurted out, unable to keep the words to herself any longer.

It was almost a relief to say them, to let them fall from her mouth, ringing with sincerity as they hung between them. Still slowly inching forward, a cowed meekness to her as she ducked her dark head down, hands pressing to her stomach, Lena chewed on the rest of her words as Kara stared at her, caught momentarily speechless.

Moving closer with caution, Lena watched as Kara’s throat bobbed, a mouthful of half-chewed forced down, making her cough. Lena arched an eyebrow as Kara lightly pounded her chest, pink-cheeked and apologetic as she roughly cleared her throat.

“Sorry.”

Inclining her head, Lena drifted even closer, stopping a few short metres away as she fiddled with the cuff of her sweatshirt, tongue-tied and shame-faced.

“It’s fine, Lena,” Kara quietly continued, a wan smile on her face, “you don’t have to apologise to  _ me.” _

“I do,” Lena insisted, her voice low and wavering, “I said a lot of things that I didn’t mean. Not really. And I’d like to just say it was the hormones, but … I really  _ am _ angry at you. And I meant it when I said that I love-”

Her breathing hitched, voice catching on the word as she winced, and Lena felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Clearing her throat, she continued, eyes cast downwards.

“Love you. And I can’t stop loving you just because I hate-”

She trailed off as the word rolled off her tongue, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth as it hung in the ensuing silence, implying what she didn’t say. Lena wanted to take it back immediately, but her throat closed up as her chest twinged, the raw wound of her heart aching as yearning washed over her.

“It’s okay,” Kara murmured, her voice light and reassuring.

It wasn’t though. Lena knew what it cost her to pretend like the word didn’t hurt, that it didn’t cut her to the bone to feel hated, to know that the feeling came from Lena. Rubbing at her tired eyes, limbs heavy and shoulders slumped, Lena looked up with a wretched look on her face, full of desolation and a silent plea.

“No, that’s not what I- I don’t  _ hate _ you. I wish that I could,” she feebly laughed, the sound falling flat as she trailed off into a huff of frustration, “it might make things easier. I think that’s why I stayed away, so I could pretend that I hated you because you wouldn’t be around to remind me that I don’t. Except … I never gave you the chance to- to do what was right. I said you never do the right thing, but it was me who didn’t by making you go.”

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Lena exhaled forcefully, lungs spent as she deflated, seeming small and defeated as she stood before Kara, swallowing her pride. Lena knew she should’ve apologised sooner, immediately after she’d cooled off, but she’d chafed against doing so because of her own dignity, and yet it had gotten them nowhere. If she was going to stay, she needed to put her feelings aside and at least try.

“I blamed you for not holding yourself accountable for your mistakes, and that was hypocritical of me, because I haven’t held myself accountable for mine either. I was wrong to blame you and to send you away. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kara repeated, hopping off her perch to take a step towards Lena, understanding softening her face as she gave her a warm smile. “I hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Lena choked out, a strangled laugh caught in her throat as her eyes burned. 

She blinked quickly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Sniffing, she roughly cleared her throat, staring down at the floor as she scuffed her foot along the ice, feeling a tug in her stomach as Kara’s closeness had an effect on the baby.

“But I was still wrong. I think … I just miss you. A lot. Still.”

“I miss you too.”

Nodding, Lena swallowed thickly, closing her eyes. She drew in a shaky breath, feeling a release as she unburdened herself, letting go of a small part of her anger, letting out some of her bottled up feelings. Not all of them, but enough to ease her conscience.

“I can’t- I’m not at a place where I can forgive you yet,” Lena haltingly replied, rubbing the back of her neck as her forehead creased with a troubled look, “but … I hope you can forgive me.”

“Of course I do,” Kara breathlessly replied, taking a half-step forward, rocking on her heels slightly before she backed away again. 

The restraint it took was written in the lines of her face and the planes of her body, shoulders squared as she turned rigid, a stubborn set to her jaw. Lena was glad she kept her distance, especially after last week when she’d all but fallen apart in Kara’s arms. She needed her space to separate her tangled feelings - and this was the first step in doing that.

“I’ll do better,” Lena blurted out, a firmness to the words as she gave Kara a solemn nod. “If we’re going to do this- if we’re going to co-parent then we need to be on the same side. And I know that’s what you want, so I- I’m going to try. Try to set all of …  _ this _ aside, so we can focus on-”

“The little specimen?” Kara said, a breathless, hitching laugh falling from her lips as she raised her eyebrows slightly, eyes innocently wide with hope and warm amusement.

Opening and closing her mouth, a fleeting smile graced Lena’s face as embarrassment washed over her. Red-faced and awkward, her lips twisted into another smile, wry and exasperated as she rubbed at her forehead. Her shoulders rose and fell in a quick, helpless shrug.

“Yes.”

“Why do you call her that?” Kara asked, head cocked to the side and transparent curiosity written on her face.

Lena shrugged again, tugging at the cuffs of her sleeves as her eyes darted around the room. Shifting self-consciously, Lena was speechless for a few moments.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “I just- I’ve been hurt a lot of times and … well, I  _ wanted _ her. A baby to love me. Except … I’m scared that … maybe she won’t. It was easier to think of it as a science experiment instead of a baby. A  _ her.” _

“She won’t hate you,” Kara whispered, firm and sure.

Letting her eyes meet Kara’s, Lena stared at her for a moment, a lump in her throat, taking in the tenderness and the love. It made her stomach lurch in an uncomfortable manner and Lena quickly ducked her head back down, raking her fingers through her damp hair.

“Lena, I l-”

“I’m a little tired,” Lena cut her off, eyes narrowing slightly as her eyebrows drew together, a grave expression shrouding her true feelings as her insides roiled and knotted themselves. “Sorry, I think- I think I might go and lay down.”

Lips parting, Kara hesitated a moment, crestfallen and pleading, before she gave Lena a strained smile and ducked her head in understanding. “Oh, um, sure. Well … I’ll be here. Just let me know if you need … anything.”

“Thank you,” Lena curtly replied.

She turned quickly, shoulders taut beneath her sweatshirt and made a swift escape to the antechamber with the trestle bed. Lowering herself down onto it, ribs protesting and back aching, Lena blinked back the smarting tears that blurred her vision. Wiping at her eyes in frustration, she exhaled sharply, blowing the air out of her cheeks as she let her body relax against the thin mattress.

With her frayed emotions and heavy heart, the last thing Lena wanted to hear was Kara say those three words to her. She was trying to pull herself together enough to make it work, to make it through the remainder of her pregnancy with Kara beside her to witness it, but Lena didn’t want to make it any harder than it needed to be. And it was already hard enough.

After nearly an hour of staring up at the blue ceiling, watching her breath hang heavily in the air above her as a fire was kindled in her stomach by the fidgeting baby, Lena eventually drifted off. Her dreams were troubled and dark, vague notions making her restless, and when she finally woke, she felt even worse than she had before sleeping.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, she sat on the edge of the low bed, shoulders hunched and heels of her palms digging into her eyes as she let the fuzziness of sleep fade away. The ache in her back persisted and her eyes felt heavy as she struggled to open them, blinking away starbursts of static that blurred her vision for a moment, before she looked up.

Although she hadn’t heard her approach, Lena’s skin crawled with the feeling of someone watching her, and she started slightly at the sight of Kara lingering in the doorway, half in shadow and reluctant to disturb her. Covering a wide yawn behind her hand, Lena made a noncommittal sound of greeting.

“Alex is back. I told her to stop by your house and bring some of your equipment for you.”

A jolt ran through Lena as she perked up, eyes wide and hair frazzled, yet more eager than she’d felt in days. Pushing herself to her feet, she quickly walked over to Kara and followed her down the hallway and back out to the main chamber of the fortress. 

Alex gave her a nod in greeting, attaching wires to generators as she hooked up some of Lena’s medical equipment to what she’d brought in from the DEO. Taking stock of her inventory, Lena’s eyes flitted over the piles of tech, taking in the monitors and the ultrasound machine, the steamer trunk of her clothes and bag overflowing with half of Lena’s pharmaceuticals. And the small disk Kara held out to her with a crooked smile.

“Hope!” Lena quietly exclaimed, walking over to Kara to take the offered disk, cradling it in her hands with delight. 

_ “Miss Luthor, how might I assist?” _

“Okay, that’s creepy,” Alex said, casting a wary look at the holographic hourglass that hovered above the disk. “Come and lay down.”

Slipping  _ Hope _ into the pocket of her sweatpants, Lena cast Alex a wary look, “why?”

“So I can do an ultrasound and take your blood.”

“I can do it myself.”

“Doctor’s orders, I’m afraid,” Alex nonchalantly replied.

She switched on the monitor to the ultrasound machine and let out a sound of triumph as it flickered to life. Detaching the wand, she uncoiled the wire and then glanced over at Lena, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Well?”

Biting back a heavy sigh, Lena pulled her sweatshirt off with a sullen look on her face, wrapping her arms around her protruding stomach as she moved over to the slab of ice she’d been laid to rest on for three days the week before.

“Oh! Here,” Kara said, scrambling to hurriedly take her glasses off, suit rippling down her arms.

Unclipping her cloak, she gallantly shook it out over the cold slab as a buffer for Lena. Gratitude blossomed in her chest at the gesture, and she gave Kara the ghost of a smile, inclining her head.

“Thank you.”

“You two are being awfully … cordial,” Alex noted.

Ignoring the comment, Lena hauled herself up onto the cloak and swung her legs around. Stretching out on it, Lena turned her head to the side, craning to see the monitor, and Kara quickly wheeled it forward for her to see it more easily. 

Squirting the gel onto her stomach, Alex made quick work of smearing it around before she pressed the wand into it. The dulcet sounds of the baby’s rapid heartbeat broke the fragile silence of the moment, and Lena stiffened slightly, before relaxing at the familiarity of it. 

Her eyes drifted to Kara, who had stiffened too, her whole body rigid with alertness, eyes bright, lips parted as the air raced out of her lungs, and a look of wonder on her face. Moving the wand around to get a better look, Alex let out a quiet sound of victory, expression lighting up as she found a good angle, projected onto the screen.

“There she is!”

In a blur of blue, Kara rushed towards the monitor and gripped the sides of the screen, a smile of amazement splitting her face as tears welled up in her eyes. “Look at-”

The sound of pulverised plastic and cracking metal fragments punctuated Kara’s excited exclamation as she squeezed the monitor tightly in her grasp and the screen promptly fractured, the black and white image disappearing as the monitor fractured. 

“Her,” Kara flatly replied, deflating as disappointment slammed into her.

Sighing heavily, Alex gave Lena a grim look, before picking up a surgical cloth and wiping it across her stomach. “That’s that then.”

“Sorry,” Kara sheepishly apologised, guilt colouring her features as she uncurled her fingers.

Plastic and tiny pieces of metal from the internal motherboard rained down to the floor as she stepped back, recoiling as she winced, and Lena let out a snort of laughter, closing her eyes as amusement and an old fondness for Kara’s clumsiness flared up in her chest. Of course, Kara’s clumsiness had normally been of the human variety, in Lena’s experience, of fumbling words and pink-cheeked fumbling as she spilt coffee on her shirt. Not crushing things with her bare hands. 

The sour thoughts smothered the warmth inside Lena and her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she opened her eyes. Still, as she pushed herself up onto her elbows, eyes landing on Kara’s mournful expression as she looked at the broken screen, Lena felt sympathy nag at her. Turning to Alex, she softly sighed.

“Are the other monitors hooked up yet?”

“Mhm.”

Nodding in thanks, Lena fished  _ Hope _ out of her pocket and held the disk aloft.

_ “Hope, _ bring up the latest sonogram on file, please,” Lena said aloud.

_ “Right away, Miss Luthor. Here is the latest sonogram on file. File saved on-” _

“Thank you, Hope,” Lena interjected as the clip lit up the screen.

Her eyes were trained on Kara and she watched the look of awe that softened the woman’s face, eyes locked onto the recorded video that was playing with rabid fascination. It softened Lena’s heart - just a little - and she couldn’t stop the faint smile that played at the corners of her mouth as she watched Kara drift towards the large monitor.

Eyes tracking the movement, Lena watched as Kara reached up slightly, fingertips scant inches from the screen as if to caress the sonogram. Feeling her throat constrict as the urge to cry crept up on her, Lena watched as Kara swallowed thickly, a pent up breath escaping her parted lips as her shoulders went slack.

Her fingertips bridged the last few inches to gently touch the screen with a tenderness that made Lena’s heart ache. With a featherlight touch, Kara ran her fingers over the black and white squirming swirl on the screen, the echoic sounds of the baby’s heartbeat reverberating throughout the cavern. A lighthearted laugh of amazement escaped Kara as she pressed her palm flat against the screen, head whipping around to meet Lena’s stare.

“She’s …  _ real. _ This is- I don’t even- I’m going to be a  _ mom! _ That’s  _ our _ baby!”

“It is,” Lena said with faint amusement, lips twisting into a dry smile at Kara’s exclamations.

“Our little specimen,” Kara continued.

Lena’s stomach dropped, leaving her with the swooping sensation of freefalling, butterflies brushing her hollowed-out insides at the sound of the nickname, and she let out a breathless sob of laughter, eyes creasing at the corners as she nodded quickly in agreement.

“Our little specimen.”


	6. Chapter 6

“I don’t understand,” Alex frowned as the trio faced the screen.

The latest results of the series of tests run on Lena showed a steady decline on the mapped graphs and trend patterns. After another week in the Fortress of Solitude, doing everything they could to make Lena safe and healthy, they had moved her back to her family’s mansion to rest in comfort. With Kara at her side this time, as Lena had promised to let her. And still, weeks later, and into her seventh month, she had only slightly improved, and it was taking everything they could do to maintain it.

“We’re feeding you as much as you can possibly eat. The sun lamps should be taking some of the strain off your body and yet … your heart rate is too fast and too shallow, the fever is making you burn through more calories than the baby should even  _ need,  _ and she’s barely grown at all. I can’t think of what else we can do.”

With a tired smile, eyes ringed with dark shadows, despite the endless hours Lena spent sleeping, she pushed herself up slightly on the padded bench, her stomach making it difficult. She winced at the twinge in her healing ribs and the exertion it took for her to sit up, a cold sweat breaking out on her pale skin as her arms shook with the effort.

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” she exasperatedly replied, feeling woozy from the blood loss of the most recent test.

Kara gently eased her back down against the inclined tilt of the bench, worry etched into the lines of her face as she chewed on her lip. Red sun lamps gave her a grey pallor, her shoulders slumped with a weariness she wouldn’t own up to, and Lena gave her a grim look as she lay back against the padded vinyl.

“What else is there?” Kara hoarsely asked, eyes red-rimmed as she crossed her arms back over her chest.

“Argo.”

“Out of the question,” Lena firmly replied, fear sparking in her eyes.

“She’s right, Alex,” Kara sighed, rubbing at her temple, “if we were going to take her, we should’ve taken her weeks -  _ months _ \- ago. It’s too dangerous to take her now.”

With a resigned sigh, Alex shrugged helplessly, hands spread in defeat as she looked at her sister with concern. “Then all I can offer is bed rest and fluids. She’s not deficient in anything, there are no health problems. It’s just … parasitic. It’s taking its toll. The only cure is to let the pregnancy run its course, or …”

They all fell quiet at the implications of Alex’s unsaid words. After a few moments of weighted silence, Alex cleared her throat, walking past Kara and lightly touching her shoulder, giving Lena a searching look.

“I have to get to work. Are you okay here?”

“Yeah, go, we’re fine,” Kara said, shooing her with a wan smile, “Nia’s on patrol tonight.”

Nodding, Alex stayed a few moments, rattling off a list of instructions to Kara for Lena’s care and comfort, before she finally left. Despite the weeks of alone time they’d spent together, to the extent that the flimsy truce between them had been strained and tested almost to its limits, things were only slightly easier. Lena could face her without the unbearable anger that clawed at her, a front for the underlying the devastating heartbreak beneath, and Kara no longer felt the crushing weight of her guilt.

Things had evened out into an amicable agreement. Both of them were aware of the fact that it stood for their unborn child, a child they would raise together, and not for their own personal benefit, and yet there was the undercurrent of emotions that filled the room if they were both in it at the same time. And try as they might, they couldn’t ignore it, engaging in some slow, teasing dance, they carried on with the pretence of obliviousness.

Hopping off the bench, Lena blinked back dizzying black spots and braced herself against the edge of it for a moment, before she looked at Kara and gave her a crooked smile, sharp and amused.

“I really  _ am _ okay, you know. You don’t need to worry so much.”

“It’s not  _ funny, _ Lena,” Kara snapped, turning rigid as her eyes brightened with a sheen of tears. “I feel like I’m watching you-”

Flinching slightly at the scolding, Lena’s expression softened as she gave Kara a gentle look of understanding. Nodding encouragingly, she egged her on. “Go on, you can say it.”

“Like I’m watching you …  _ die.” _

“Do I look dead to you?”

Scoffing, Kara turned around and made for the door, socked feet silent against the wooden floorboards as she stalked out into the airy hallway. Lena followed after her, albeit at a slower pace, hand pressed against her tender lower back as she grumbled quietly to herself. 

“Kara.  _ Wait!  _ I can’t walk very fast. Look, I know you’re worried but-  _ ah!” _

Lena hunched over slightly at the sharp kick in her stomach, lips pressing together as her face twisted with the painful twinge in her ribs. The breath rushed out of her as she braced her hands on her knees, teeth bared in a grimace, and she felt a hot hand on her shoulder.

Peering up, she met Kara’s frantic eyes and gave her a thin smile. Straightening up, Lena let out a quiet grunt of malcontent, pressing a hand to her stomach as she gave Kara an exasperated look.

“I’m fine, it’s just- she’s  _ kicking.” _

“Come and sit down,” Kara quietly urged her, gently gripping her arm and towing her over towards a low bench set below a tall, arched window. Pale sunlight flooded in and Lena turned her face up towards it, enjoying the pleasant warmth on her face as she sighed faintly.

At the close proximity of Kara, the baby kicked again, eliciting a small cry of outrage from Lena as the skin of her stomach bulged beneath a foot underneath her sweatshirt. Muttering a curse, she scowled down at the hidden bump with a look of indignation.

“She kicks a lot,” Kara commented, a perplexed crease between her eyebrows. “Is she in distress? Or-”

“It’s  _ you _ . You already told me that you have that  _ weird _ baby connection.”

“The Aos-Kolir.”

“Right,  _ that.  _ Just one of the joys of growing a half-alien baby, I suppose. I should be glad she’s not burning holes through my insides.”

Expression darkening with an even more troubled look, Kara pursed her lips as she brooded. “That’s potentially a future complication.”

Sighing heavily, Lena gave her a dour look, “that kind of negativity is bad for the baby, you know. What if your little connection is sending that sensory information to her and making her stressed?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Well, you’re making her feel  _ something,” _ Lena said, turning rigid in her seat at the squirming inside her as her breathing hitched, “because she’s definitely restless right now.”

Exhaling slowly, Lena forced the tension out of her shoulders and tried to even out her shallow breathing, her stomach lurching at the feeling in her stomach. Sometimes she felt like she wasn’t inside her own body, like it no longer belonged to her as she felt the baby make itself known, an alien host that she viewed with a sense of fond detachment. 

Glancing sideways at Kara, who was staring intently at Lena’s covered stomach, a ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she slouched slightly, leaning back against the stone windowsill and giving Kara a hesitant look.

“Would you- do you want to … feel it?”

Blinking in shock, Kara’s eyebrows rose as her eyes flashed up to meet Lena’s. “What?”

“The kicking.”

“I- are you sure?”

Nodding, Lena jerked her chin towards it, pulling up the hem of her t-shirt to expose the mottled skin of her bulging bump. Apprehensive and slow, Kara inched a hand towards Lena’s stomach, before she slipped off the bench and knelt before her. 

Fingertips gliding over the taut skin of Lena’s stomach, her touch featherlight and cautious, Kara sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden bulge of a foot making itself known. Quickly, with more fervour and awe, Kara cupped Lena’s bump in her hands, a slight tremor in them as she stroked the bruised skin with tenderness.

Lena scarcely dared to breathe as she looked down at Kara, the heat of her hands on her stomach making her heart stutter embarrassingly, knowing that she could most likely hear it. But there was something so intimate, so sensual, about the way Kara’s hands cradled her body with revere. She felt her cheeks warm and closed her eyes, feeling the baby respond to Kara’s caressing touch.

_ “Oh,” _ Kara breathlessly murmured at a strong kick against her hand.

A flicker of unease ran across Lena’s face as she drew in a shaky breath, eyes snapping open as she looked down at Kara.

“Does it- does it hurt?”

“It’s … uncomfortable,” Lena hedged.

Starting to pull back, Kara gave her an apologetic smile, and Lena reached out, thin fingers encircling Kara’s wrist as she guided her hand back to her stomach, a reassuring look on her face as she nodded.

“It’s okay.”

Swallowing, Kara nodded as she looked up at Lena with wide eyes, her hands firmly pressing against the bump with a tentative protectiveness. She licked her lips, mouth opening and closing as she felt the pattering of little hands and feet pounding against the inside of Lena’s stomach, marvelling at the miracle of it. A quiet flurry of laughter fell from her lips, face alight with joy.

_ “Ehrosh :bem i chahvymah kir. I chahs ieiu. I shovuh rrip.” _

Lena blinked in surprise at the incomprehensible whispered words, undoubtedly Kryptonian and surprisingly tender, spoken with love as Kara leant in close, a laugh still etched into the creases radiating from the corners of her eyes as she smiled.

“What does it mean?”

Looking up, Kara gave her a self-conscious smile, waving a hand in a vague manner, before placing it back on Lena’s stomach.

“Oh … you know,” Kara said, pink-cheeked and sheepish, “I was just saying hello and telling her that- that I love her.”

A soft huff of laughter worked its way out of Lena’s mouth, eyebrows rising and falling in a quick look of surprise as she looked at Kara. “Oh.”

“I just- I never thought I’d have a child of my own. I never thought I’d have to go through all of …  _ this.” _

She waved her hand at Lena’s stomach, running a hand over her face and through her lank hair, a haggard look about her. It was taking its toll on everyone, the pregnancy, and the red sun lamps were doing nothing to help Kara’s endurance. 

“I was sent here when I was  _ thirteen _ to raise my cousin. My future was sealed for me the day they sent me after him to be his guardian. And then … I got here, and he had a life, and I was dropped off with strangers. Every day I had to diminish myself, pretend that I was …  _ average.  _ And I knew from a young age that a child wouldn’t factor into that. Just based on the compatibility alone, on the frailty of human DNA, no one would’ve been able to get me pregnant. And I didn’t even know that my DNA would be able to … with a human.”

Her breathing hitched as she drew in a shaky breath, and Kara’s shoulders hunched over as she curled in on herself, small and defeated and far from the hero that she was. There was an unfamiliar bitterness to her voice as she replied, weary and frustrated.

“And I spent so many years here, missing my family, my home, and building a new one that I  _ do _ love - I  _ do _ \- but … I found my mom and she never even came looking for me afterwards. And I just- I think … that’s the real reason I wanted you to come to Argo with me. Obviously, I  _ am _ worried about the baby -  _ and  _ you - but … I never thought I’d have my own family, and I wanted to go back, with you and our child and say  _ … see? _ My line will continue and I’m  _ happy _ .”

“Are you?” Lena hesitantly asked, eyes wide and wary. “I know you never got to decide if you wanted this. So … are you happy?”

Kara raised her head and met her Lena’s eyes with incredulity on her face. Lips parted, she drew in a sharp breath, eyebrows pinching together with confusion. She looked taken aback by Lena’s words, blinking as she took them in, before she cocked her head to the side.

“I- of course. Of course I am! I know that I didn’t ask- I know when we fought … I made it seem like you’d made this decision for me. That I was angry that you’d kissed me and- and kept her. But the truth is … I want this more than anything. I want this … with you. This feeling … it’s indescribable. I never thought I could love someone who wasn’t even born.”

“Do you? Love her, I mean.”

“Don’t you?”

Pausing at the question, Lena faltered for a moment, chewing on the inside of her lip as she struggled with her conflicting feelings. Looking down, Lena reached down and tugged the hem of her t-shirt down, covering her stomach and leaving Kara to reluctantly pull her hands away. The absence of her searing touch was a keen loss, making Lena’s flushed skin ripple with goosebumps, feeling strangely cold despite the warmth of her body heat.

“I don’t-”

Biting herself off, Lena looked away, staring down the shadowed hallway, dust motes spiralling through the air in shafts of wan light seeping in through the tall windows. They left a slanted, dappled pattern across the stone flooring, lines of light cutting through the darkness, and Lena breathed in the cool, dusty air.

“You can tell me,” Kara murmured.

Closing her eyes, Lena straightened up, back straight as she drew in a deep breath and then deflated as she exhaled fully. Rubbing a hand over her forehead she roughly cleared her throat, heat creeping up her neck under Kara’s scrutinising gaze.

“I’m not- I’m not sure that I do. My body … it doesn’t feel like  _ mine _ a lot of the time. And I just- I’m scared.”

Swallowing thickly, Lena drew in a shuddering breath, running her fingers through her hair as she softly sighed.

“I’m scared that … when she’s born, I won’t know her for mine. I know that she’s going to be different, and I just- I wonder if that’ll make it harder for me to feel like she’s mine. I feel … protective, but …”

“I get it,” Kara gently said, a tender look of understanding softening her face as she reached out to touch Lena’s knee.

“I don’t think you do,” Lena replied, not unkindly. “You always see the best in everything, in everyone. You always aim to be  _ good _ \- it’s your fatal flaw. I’m sorry that I made you think that was a bad thing.”

With a quiet laugh, Kara climbed to her feet and dropped down onto the bench beside Lena, stretching her legs out before her and leaning against the edge of the windowed alcove. 

“It’s okay. Your hubris is your fatal flaw, and I’m sorry for making  _ you _ feel like that it’s a bad thing. It’s actually the first thing that I loved-”

Falling silent, Kara pressed her mouth into a flat line, swallowing the rest of her sentence as she bowed her head. Fiddling with the button on her blue shirt, Kara chewed on her bottom lip as silence descended over them, a heavy tension hanging between the two women, sitting shoulder to shoulder.

“Loved about what?”

“You,” Kara simply finished, a lopsided smile gracing her face as her eyes crinkled at the corners with warmth.

Swallowing the lump that rose in her throat, Lena stared straight ahead, chin haughtily raised as she pressed a hand against her stomach, gently cradling it.

“And what was the second?”

“Your eyes,” Kara said with a surprised laugh, cheeks reddening as she reached up to rub the back of her neck. “I hope she has them.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Lena’s mouth, some of the coldness in her heart melting at Kara’s honesty. She felt a rush of fondness for her old friend, once that she’d tried to bury for months, yet it still lived, tucked away deep inside her, rearing its head when she let her guard slip.

“I think she’ll have yours,” Lena haltingly replied, a smile in her voice, “it seems like the Kryptonian DNA is dominant. She feels more alien than human.”

“Mm,” Kara hummed in agreement. 

They sat there on the bench for a few minutes, dwelling in the silence, which was surprisingly comfortable. The thread of tension was there, as always, but it was the most they’d spoken to each other in weeks, aside from their back and forth debates about what they could do to try and help Lena.

Allowing herself to linger in the illusion that she created, the illusion that everything was fine, that nothing had ever changed, Lena breathed in the dusty air and felt the faint warmth of the sun on her skin and could almost pretend she was in her office. Not pregnant. Not heartbroken over Kara. Things would’ve been easier if that were true.

“Hang on,” Kara sharply said.

Lena opened her eyes and turned to her, eyebrows raised in a silent question as she took in Kara’s profile, limned in golden sunlight. Her eyes were incredibly blue, wide and eager, a spark of triumph lighting up her face.

“That’s it!  _ My _ genes are dominant.”

“Congratulations,” Lena dryly replied, “I’m sure she’ll be the perfect little clone to teach to fly and benchpress cars.”

“No, that’s not-  _ I’m _ not carrying her.  _ You  _ are. But she’s- she’s half Kryptonian. Our biology is different. We- we have amino acids that humans can’t even comprehend. Different RNA sequences and proteins and ribosomes. She’s only getting  _ half _ of what she needs from you. Obviously, the placenta is formed as the key organ for fetal growth, acting as an interface between you and the fetus, exchanging the nutrients that she needs to grow. Amino acids are one of the major nutrients a fetus needs for the biosynthesis of proteins, nucleotides and neurotransmitters, and so forth. But of course,  _ your _ body is providing those things, using the placenta as a point of meeting. In a human fetus, it doesn’t matter because they get the nutrients they need from their human parent, but if the fetus is half Kryptonian … doesn’t it stand to reason that it would need these missing biological markers to develop properly? Perhaps she’s compensating for it by, well, draining  _ you _ .”

Completely at a loss for words, Lena stared at Kara with a look of utter disbelief, mouth wordlessly opening and closing as she tried to make sense of the bizarre turn of events of Kara spouting biology to her. And yet, Lena was struck again with the incredulous fact that it made sense. She’d known that it was half Kryptonian, that her child would be different, but the differences in biology were beyond her understanding. There had only been so much information stored at the Fortress of Solitude to deduce how drastic the changes could potentially be, but she hadn’t even considered the fact that her own body could be, essentially, starving the fetus.

“That’s- how do  _ you _ know all of this?”

Giving her an embarrassed smile, Kara shrugged helplessly as she spread her hands, letting out a shy laugh as she smiled at Lena.

“Oh, um, I started studying biology at six years old on Krypton. I’m actually pretty smart, you know. I just- I landed here with all of this science and maths that I shouldn’t have known and I wasn’t allowed to, I don’t know,  _ shine _ . I’ve spent half of my life pretending to be stupid to not draw attention to myself, but on Krypton … I was on track to be the youngest member of the Science Guild that the planet had ever seen. It’s why I chose to follow after my cousin in reporting; writing is something that’s always been harder for me, especially when English is my sixth language. Sometimes it all just … gets a bit jumbled up in my head.”

“So …  _ you _ know science? I mean, I never thought you were stupid, not at all, but … you’re …  _ smart.  _ Beyond normal levels of smart.”

Shoulders rising and falling in a quick shrug, Kara waved a hand dismissively, an air of modesty about her as she ducked her head.  _ “Technically.  _ I, uh, I  _ did _ know what quantum entanglement was when you asked me about it. I just- well, a reporter for a  _ fashion magazine _ shouldn’t really know that. Or about transmatter portals. And a lot of other kinds of stuff.”

Lena was silent for a moment, mulling the news over for a minute, trying not to feel a flicker of annoyance at the fact that her best friend had kept so much of herself hidden away because of a matter of where she was born. After taking a moment to digest it all, to think over how to proceed, she drew in a deep breath and looked to Kara, a stubborn set to her jaw.

“So, a blood transfusion then.”

“Wait, hold on, Lena. We don’t know what the side effects of putting my blood into your body could be. I mean … it could potentially give you powers, or it could just as easily kill you. I know my blood  _ is _ compatible with all four blood types, but the level of radiation my body absorbs could be catastrophic to you.”

“So then we take a sample and we see,” Lena simply replied.

She was obstinate, determined to exhaust every possibility to try and make it through the other side of the pregnancy, and there was nothing that could stand in her way. Lena had surrendered as graciously as she could to some of Kara’s wishes, agreeing to live in close quarters with her for the indeterminable future, letting go of her obsessive science experiment and restricting regime, trying her best to swallow her pride for the sake of their child, but nothing short of being on death’s doorstep would make her give in when she had a lead.

Pushing herself to her feet, Lena walked back towards the room they’d previously exited, moving over to a workbench and clearing the space. Wheeling a small stool over, she looked up at Kara and gave her a genuine smile, perhaps the first real one since they’d fallen out, and patted the padded seat insistently.

“Come. Sit.”

“You want to do this  _ now? _ Why don’t we wait for Alex and she can-”

“I thought you missed the days when we worked together.”

“I do, but-”

Pulling latex gloves out of a box, Lena snapped them on, rummaging through a drawer of medical supplies to come up with a tourniquet and a few empty vials.

“This is  _ our _ baby. And I don’t know if I’m hurting her by not- by not being able to give her what she needs,” Lena interrupted, eyes bright with fear as her voice trembled, “and we can wait. We can wait until tomorrow until Alex can come back, but each minute we waste puts us further behind in finding a way to help. I can do this, Kara. But only if you help me.”

Taking in the wide-eyed look of dread, trepidation written in the lines of her body as she hovered in the doorway, nervously fiddling with her fingers, Lena gave her a fleeting smile, a plea in her eyes as she clutched the vials in her hands.

She was feverish in her pursuit of a cure, cheeks flushed, eyes burning with tiredness - the same tiredness wrought on Kara’s own face - and a hunger that transcended the malnourishment of her body. Waiting expectantly, Lena watched Kara’s stoic demeanour wilt, relief washing over her as Kara swiftly crossed over to the stool and dropped down onto it.

“We’re  _ just _ examining the sample,” Kara sternly said, an apprehensive look of doubt flickering in her blue eyes.

With a short laugh, Lena rolled her eyes, “I swear on our unborn child’s life. I won’t do anything to harm her without running it by you first.”

“Running it by me isn’t the same thing as waiting for me to agree,” Kara grumbled.

“Well, in the past you’ve made it clear that you don’t trust my judgement, and you know I'll do what's necessary,” Lena curtly replied, reaching out to grab Kara’s left arm. 

With deft movements, she rolled up the sleeve of her shirt, eyes flitting to Kara’s face and then back down to her arm. Exposing the golden skin inside the crook of her elbow, Lena straightened her arm out, lips pursed as she tied the tourniquet around Kara’s arm. Bluish veins stood out beneath her skin.

There was a bitter edge of resentfulness in Lena’s words, and she avoided Kara’s eyes as she swabbed the skin with a topical antiseptic, more so out of routine than for any benefit to Kara, before she paused.

“In the past, I never made my reservations clear, and I’m sorry for not being honest. But right now, I’m telling you that I’m scared for you and our unborn daughter if you do something reckless with my blood, so … please. I trust you. I  _ trust  _ you to do the right thing, even if it’s not easy, because you- you were right that you always make the hard calls, but  _ please _ don’t rush into anything.”

“You have my word,” Lena softly assured her, one side of her mouth slightly lifting as she nodded. “But … I’ve just realised I don’t have any green kryptonite to pierce your skin, so …”

Chuckling, Kara gave her a fond smile, before she pressed her thumbnail against her skin. Face crumbling with pain, Kara gouged her nail into the crook of her elbow, deep enough to cut through her impenetrable skin with the force of it, while Lena watched on, ashen-faced and aghast.

Slowly pulling her hand back, Kara looked up and gave her a grim smile, “go ahead - quickly.”

“That was  _ vile,” _ Lena spluttered, brow pinching together and lip curling in a look of disgust before she quickly slipped the plastic casing off the tip of the needle.

Red blood, as vivid as any human's, rushed into the vial that Lena held, and she quickly sealed them all and safely set them on the bench, before turning back to Kara. Untying the tourniquet, she watched as the wound knit itself back together, marvelling at how quickly the skin closed back over before she opened an antiseptic wipe and cradled Kara’s arm. With surprising tenderness, Lena wiped the blood away and then slowly rolled the wrinkled sleeve back down.

“There,” she murmured with satisfaction, looking up to meet Kara’s eyes.

She was impossibly close and Lena froze for a moment, her stare level as her stomach lurched and heart stuttered. Lips parting, she drew in a hitching breath and instinctively moved closer, just ever so slightly, as if drawn in by the pull she felt towards Kara. 

And then she jerked backwards, blinking herself back to the present. Gruffly clearing her throat, Lena looked down at the pink-stained wipe and moved over to put it in the trash with the needle.

“Okay, um, you can go and … I don’t know, maybe sleep? You can sleep while I run an analysis on this,” Lena stammered, talking quickly as she tried to stop the heat she felt creeping up her neck.

“I can help,” Kara insisted.

“No,” Lena sharply replied, before her voice softened, “I mean, I can do this part by myself. I, uh, I’ll wake you when I have some definitive answers. We can go from there. Besides, you look even more tired than I do.”

With a strained, lighthearted laugh, Kara climbed to her feet and gave Lena a wan smile. 

“Okay. You’ll stop if you feel dizzy or- or you just feel … off?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

“Okay.”

Lena nodded, peeking sideways at Kara as she moved back over to the samples. Picking them up, she turned her back on the other woman and listened to the slow, retreating footsteps, while moving over to the centrifuge.

It was a long process to perform a full blood panel on Kara’s samples, and Lena was fascinated the entire time. The blood was so different from what she’d taken from Sam, who had Kryptonian DNA trying to overwhelm her human body as the dorment enzymes awoke. This was pure Kryptonian DNA, a complex lattice of DNA with genetic markers that Lena couldn’t even fathom. And even the structures of the cells were different, complicated and intriguing.

But what she  _ did _ infer from her tests was that the blood held a dangerous level of radiation. A level that could potentially be fatal to her if she injected it straight into her bloodstream. Perhaps not to the fetus, who was used to low doses of yellow sun radiation, but Lena wasn’t sure about that either. Kara’s powers and her years on Earth had completely saturated her body with the high dosage radiation of a yellow sun, and Lena brooded over it for hours, until she heard shuffling footsteps leading towards the room.

Kara came into the makeshift lab with two steaming cups of tea in hand, blonde hair dishevelled and the imprint of her pillow creasing her ruddy cheek as she blinked owlishly. Lena cast her a cursory glance as she came in, frazzled and irritable with exhaustion.

She brusquely thanked Kara as she set the cup of tea down a safe distance away from the microscope Lena was hunched over, before she looked up at a large screen, casting a sweeping gesture towards the string of numbers and graphs and projections.

“Look at this.”

“The radiation is high,” Kara slowly noted as she took in the data.

Blinking in surprise at the fact that she’d made sense of the data, Lena hummed in agreement, rubbing at her tired eyes, before looking back at the screen. Her shoulders were slumped and her back ached terribly, yet she was anxious to resolve the issue as quickly as possible.

“Yes, it is. So, we need to  _ reduce _ the radiation before we can transfuse it. I’m not sure what levels would be harmful to the baby. Of course,  _ you _ manage it just fine, so there’s a chance that she’d be able to metabolise it just fine, but seeing as Kryptonians are historically born beneath purely a red sun, even the amount of yellow sunlight she’s receiving now could potentially be stunting her growth. Although, human babies benefit from  _ slightly _ elevated levels of radiation, which means that the red sun lamps could be inhibiting her development, and perhaps the radiation in  _ your _ blood could balance that out. But then, of course, if she  _ does _ take after me in terms of metabolising radiation, that much radiation from your blood could kill her outright, given how high the levels are. But what if-”

“Lena,” Kara calmly interjected, her voice soothing and slow. “I think you should rest for a bit, and then we can-”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, at least take a break. Drink your tea and I’ll make us some lunch. You shouldn’t be standing for so long.”

Pressing her fingertips into her eyes, Lena drew in a long, deep breath and exhaled forcefully, shoulders going slack as she blinked back the blurred starbursts from her field of vision.

“Okay, sure. A quick break.”

She followed Kara to the kitchen and climbed up onto a stool, feeling her body slump with relief as she sat down for the first time in hours. Her back ached and a faint headache throbbed at her temples, and she was broodingly silent as she watched Kara move around the kitchen, her movements blurringly quick as she darted back and forth, making a stack of sandwiches.

“Chicken,” she told Lena as she set a heaping plate in front of her.

Climbing on a stool beside her, Kara picked up one of her sandwiches and took a large bite and Lena followed suit. She ate quickly, eager to get back to work, feeling steadier with some food in her stomach and the chance to give her sore feet a break. 

“So, obviously the thyroid absorbs radioiodine and helps remove it from the body, so if we were to inject me with potassium iodine while transfusing the blood, it could prevent my body from absorbing too much radiation.”

“But there’s no telling how effective that could be,” Kara countered, a pucker between her eyebrows as she chewed thoughtfully, “we should, firstly, try and decontaminate the blood.”

“Well, yes, and if we expose you to the red sun lamps, prior and while the transfusion is taking place, it’ll significantly reduce the radiation. We’d need to do a few simple tests first to determine how effective that could be and how long it takes a certain measurement of blood to reduce the levels significantly, and how long it would take for the amount of blood required for the transfusion. I can work out the math for it; you’ll just need to be depowered for a while.”

“It’s a start.”

Eagerly nodding in agreement, Lena swallowed a mouthful of food.

“There’s also a protein called granulocyte colony-stimulating factor which promotes the growth of white blood cells. It can counter the effect of radiation on bone marrow by stimulating the growth of white blood cells in the bone marrow. I also have a blood supply here to transfuse red blood cells and platelets to combat any bone marrow damage. Of course, if we administer this first as a precaution, the increased white blood cell count will be able to fight off any infections that too much radiation exposure can cause.”

“So … I’ll do some research on this,” Kara said, “and you get some rest. And then we can do some tests and decide which course of action will work best.”

_ “Or _ we can sit you under some nice red lamps right now, and I can get started on the calculations.”

“Except, you look like you’re about to pass out where you sit, and if I’m depowered, I won’t be able to catch you when you collapse, and you risk hurting the baby.”

Shooting her a dark look, Lena scowled and took another bite of her sandwich, grumbling nonsense around her mouthful. But once she was done, she reluctantly shuffled off towards her room, settling down on the low cot and staring up at the dark ceiling overhead as her mind ran over a dozen different ideas. She was still thinking of a solution when she fell asleep.

Lena knew it was late when she woke. Her body felt heavy and disjointed, her head fuzzy and eyes slit as she struggled to open them. Feeling properly rested, she managed to flounder her way into a sitting position, back arching like a cat as she stretched and yawning wide enough to crack her jaw, she climbed to her feet.

Moving through the dark, still house, she made her way back to the room with all of her research equipment, finding Kara sitting on the desk chair, slowly swivelling back and forth as she tossed a stress ball up in the air and caught it without looking. At Lena’s arrival, she straightened up, ball clutched in her hand and gave her a small smile.

“Hi, how’d you sleep?”

“Good,” Lena rasped, “shall we get started?”

“So, um, I did some research on my phone. I couldn’t guess your computer password and  _ Hope _ wouldn’t turn on for some reason.”

With a quiet snort of laughter, Lena smiled as she dropped down onto the wheeled stool at the workbench.

“She’s voice-activated and only responds to me.”

“I thought so.”

“What did you find?”

Scrambling to dig her phone out of her back pocket, Kara unlocked it and brought up a web page, eyes quickly scanning over the text. “So, there are a few other things we can inject you with to stop the radiation, like Prussian blue, and others that can stimulate white blood cell growth, like Neupogen. But, it’s not so much the radiation that I’m worried about. I think you’ll be able to crack that, but … my blood.”

Eyebrows rising, Lena gave her a pointed look, “you don’t want to share?”

A wry smile curled Kara’s lips as she gave Lena an exasperated look. “No, I just- I don’t know how it’ll affect you. Radiation aside, it’s still … different. I know I said it’s compatible with all four blood types, negative  _ and _ positive, but the Fortress of Solitude didn’t have much more than that. It’s got other properties that radiation won’t stop. My body even under a red sun lamp is … denser, stronger, sturdier than yours. And I’m not saying that would be a  _ bad _ thing to impart on you while you’re pregnant - that might actually be a relief - but … your body could reject it. You weren’t made to have alien DNA injected into you. It could completely obliterate your white blood cell count, leaving you susceptible to infection, or it could even attack your organs, or-”

Waving a hand in a careless manner, Lena reached out, palm upturned, fingers reaching as she picked up the abandoned tourniquet from that morning. “Then we’ll test yours on a sample of my blood first. Ball.”

Spluttering wordlessly for a moment, Kara slowly handed over the stress ball, and Lena efficiently tied the tourniquet around her arm, one end clamped between her teeth until Kara sighed and moved in close.

Lena stiffened at the closeness of her, memories of earlier on in the day crowing in her mind, yet she still let Kara pull the tourniquet out of her mouth and tie it around her arm with deft movements. Fetching a glove and some empty vials, Lena disinfected the pale inside of her elbow and fetched a needle.

“Do you want me to-”

While Kara was still nervously asking, Lena slipped the needle beneath her skin, ignoring the pinch, and filled up two vials. Watching with a taut look of distaste, Kara balled her hands into fists, and Lena gave her a thin smile as she pulled the needle out. Taping a cotton ball to the inside of her arm, she disposed of the needle and put the vials into the centrifuge.

“There. Now we can run some tests and see what your blood does to mine. We won’t really know what powers it’ll transmit - if any - but at least we’ll see if it’s going to damage my blood cells. It’s a start. Now, we should see how long it takes for your blood to be safe.”

Kara silently nodded, hovering about as Lena fetched a vial of her blood from the small fridge stowed in the room. Measuring out a precise amount with a pipette, she dropped it onto a petri dish, turned on a small sun lamp and set it beneath the red glow.

_ “Hope.  _ Trial one for radiation reduction in irradiated Kryptonian blood with exposure to a red sun lamp. Record information. Five millimetres of blood. The output of the red sun lamp is nine hundred watts per metre cubed for visible wavelengths of infrared light at a power density of zero-point-five.” 

“Is that a lot?” Kara whispered.

Lena let out a short laugh, arching an eyebrow as amusement coloured her voice, “it’s less visible radiation than a yellow sun. But a red sun has a higher level of infrared wavelengths, in comparison to ultraviolet, visible and gamma rays, which makes it less harmful. But prolonged exposure of harmful levels can cause skin problems for me, which is why they’re emitting such low levels. I might have to turn them up on you once we figure out the calculations for your body mass, blood volume and so forth, to speed the process up.”

“Okay.”

“You can go and … I don’t know, do whatever, if you want.”

Nose wrinkling endearingly as she smiled, Kara shook her head, “no, I’m fine. I’ll stay and help.”

“There’s not really much to do except wait.”

“Then I’ll keep you company.”

Mouth pressed into a flat line, Lena swallowed the desire to tell Kara that she didn’t want her company. It was a lie of course, but Lena found herself lapsing with increasing frequency in Kara’s presence, forgetting that she was supposed to be on guard, armoured to the teeth to keep her from worming her way into her heart. Of course, that was impossible when she was already in it.

“Sure,” she finally relented, flat and dismissive.

“I’ll get some snacks.”

She glanced back over her shoulder as she watched Kara leave, a pang of yearning spreading throughout her chest, before she turned back around, knuckles whitening as she gripped the edge of the bench.

By the time Kara was back, arms loaded with an assortment of healthy and sugary snacks for variety, as well as two bottles of water, Lena was testing a sample of the blood. It took her another two tests over the span of half an hour before the radiation levels of such a paltry sample were satisfactory.

Making their way through snacks, they spent the next hour calculating Kara’s body measurements as  _ Hope _ recorded the information Lena threw at her. Feeling hot from the prolonged proximity to Kara with nothing but the fans to keep her cool, Lena was growing irritable as they tried to surmount obstacles that Kara’s differing physiology brought about.

From what she observed, her DNA melded with Kara’s in a relatively smooth manner, not quite allowing itself to be consumed, or putting up a fight, but combining in a seamless manner, fortifying her cells. But given Kara’s bone density and complex vascular system, it was hard for Lena to accurately determine her total blood volume.

“You know what, we’ll just take enough blood for one bag; you definitely have enough for that.”

“But the coagulant agents in my blood won’t respond to the anticoagulants. Wasn’t that the whole reason for doing a live transfusion?”

“Well, we’ll just have to be quick.”

“If you don’t lower the radiation levels enough, you’ll risk hurting yourself  _ and _ possibly her. You can’t just rush it.”

Making a low sound of frustration at the back of her throat, Lena spread her hands in a helpless manner, giving Kara a hard stare. “Well, what should I do then? Tell me what to do. We can starve her and affect her development, possibly harming her future growth, or we can fill me with as many preventative measures and hope that they work.  _ What do you want to do?” _

“I’ll just- I’ll sit under the lamps until it works. Until my cells aren’t saturated anymore.”

“That could be hours.  _ Days.” _

“Then I’ll do it for her. For you.”

Biting back a huff of impatience, Lena ground her teeth together, a muscle twitching in her jaw. Her expression was severe, eyebrows drawn low together over hard eyes, lips a flat line of displeasure, and she set down her bottle of water a little more forceful than necessary as she rounded on Kara, who was eating a packet of cookies.

“I don’t  _ want _ you to do that for me. I don’t want you to spend hours sitting underneath these lamps, getting us  _ nowhere.” _

“It’s not like we have any other option so …”

“Great. Thank you for the reminder. That’s  _ so _ helpful.”

Faintly sighing, Kara wiped crumbs off her lap and gave her a meek look, “I’m just being realistic.”

“Well, I don’t need realism. I could use some of your bottomless optimism right about now.”

“If it helps, I’m optimistic that we  _ will _ figure it out.”

With a snort of laughter, Lena ran her fingers through her hair and then buried her face in her hands. Letting out a low groan of frustration, she straightened up and looked at Kara, an intense look in her eyes, shoulders squared with determination.

“You’re really willing to do that?”

“I’ll do anything,” Kara whispered.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

Set on the plan, they stared at each other for a moment longer, eyes lingering on each other as they waited to see who would move first, and then Lena sprang into action. She had Kara rearrange the furniture to create enough space to put the inclined bed in the middle of the room, before setting the Kryptonian to task bringing every red sun lamp scattered throughout the series of commandeered rooms into the room. 

Tinkering with them, Lena increased the wattage of the radiation they would be emitting, high levels that could potentially be harmful to her if she was exposed to them for too long. But it would mean that they managed it quicker, speeding up the process so that they could see if their plan worked. Lena silently prayed it would.

While she worked away, finalising a few more things, Kara busied herself with a shower and change of clothes, freshening up before she was forced to lay down for the foreseeable future. Eventually, they were ready to begin.

“Okay, lay down,” Lena hesitantly instructed her.

Following her instructions, Kara stretched out on the bed, which had been flattened, and Lena set about arranging the lamps in close proximity to her bare legs and stomach, giving her a little more room around her upper body to sit up slightly if she got restless. 

“I’m going to put a cannula in,” Lena informed her, hands shaking slightly as she picked up the needle. “It’ll make it easier to take samples and measure where we are.”

Nodding, Kara pierced the skin of her elbow, and Lena quickly taped it into place, before she stepped back. 

“I think that’s everything. Are you ready?”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, um, before I forget. Here. I thought you might like something to read to distract you,” Lena said, crossing over to pick a book up off her desk.

She set it down on the small, wheeled trolley situated beside the bed, holding bottles of water and some food and other necessities. Tapping the embossed leather cover, Lena gave her a faint smile.

“It’s a book on Celtic mythology. My favourite when I was younger. Just in case you get bored.”

“Thank you,” Kara beamed up at her.

Lena’s lips twitched with a faint smile and she hesitated for a moment, before reaching out to take Kara’s hand in her own. Stroking her thumb over her knuckles, tracing the spiderweb of veins on the inside of her wrist, Lena turned her hand over and then pressed it against her stomach.

The baby was still, perhaps used to Kara’s constant presence over the past few hours, and yet Lena had no doubt that Kara could feel her just as keenly as if she were kicking. Chewing on her words for a few moments, Lena stared down at their hands, her skin a few shades paler than Kara’s where they rested on her hidden bump.

“Thank you for doing this,” Lena finally said. 

She glanced up and met Kara’s searching blue eyes, a grave, unwavering seriousness in her green eyes as she held her gaze. Swallowing thickly, Lena hesitated briefly, before letting out a wisp of a sigh.

“And … just so you know, you can- you can touch my stomach anytime you want to.”

Kara’s eyes crinkled with a smile and Lena quickly stepped back, giving her a quick nod, before she switched all of the lamps on. The room was saturated in the eerie red glow they emitted, and Lena’s stomach lurched as she took in the crimson cast of Kara’s face, wondering what she was feeling as her powers ebbed away.

Slowly walking over to the door, Lena paused and glanced back once more, catching Kara’s eye one final time and feeling her heart soften at the small smile playing on her lips. Returning it ever so slightly, Lena grasped the door handle in her hand, words burning on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she held them back and slowly stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her.


	7. Chapter 7

“What the  _ hell _ is going on?”

Startling awake in the chair she’d fallen asleep in during the early hours of the morning, in the far corner of the room set up with the sun lamps as she kept a quiet vigil with Kara, Lena looked around with wild eyes, blinking owlishly as her heart lurched in her chest.

There was a resounding thud as four lamps crashed to the floor as Kara tumbled off the bed she’d been stretched out on as it leached the radiation from her body, and Lena stared at the prone figure for a moment, before her gaze moved towards Alex. Standing in the doorway with a bewildered look of shock, carrying a cup holder of drinks and a paper bag, she made a spluttered sound of panic as she took in the sun lamps that had been arranged around her sister’s sleeping form.

“Alex!” Kara breathlessly greeted her, pushing herself to her knees, cheeks flushed and a sheepish smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “Morning. What  _ time _ is it?”

“It’s eleven o’clock,” Alex brusquely replied, eyes sweeping around the room and landing on Lena, who remained seated. “What are you two  _ doing?” _

Climbing to her feet, softly groaning as she kneaded a sore shoulder, Kara gave her a tentative smile, eyes bright with eagerness. Reaching down, Kara righted each fallen lamp as she launched into an explanation of what they’d discovered, or what they presumed to have, while Alex lingered in the doorway with an increasing look of panic dawning on her face.

_ “What? _ You can’t put your blood inside her! That’s dangerous,” Alex cautioned her sister, a low undercurrent of warning to her words, before she rounded on Lena, “and  _ you _ know it.”

Shrugging, Lena pushed herself to her feet, “we’re running out of options.”

“And if you die?”

Deliberating for a moment, Lena tipped her head to the side, mouth thinning in consideration before she shrugged nonchalantly. “Say something nice at my funeral.”

With a scathing laugh, Alex rolled her eyes and walked over to the bed, setting down the drink tray and the paper bag, before she stalked over to the workbench with Lena’s microscope and  _ Hope’s _ little disk and gave it a prod. Kara hopped back up onto the bed, legs crossed and peered into the paper bag. She pulled out a bagel with delight and held the bag up for Lena, raising her eyebrows in question.

Lena shooked her head, moving over to stand at Alex’s shoulder as she watched her turn the disk in her hand, muttering quietly to herself. Pointedly clearing her throat, Lena arched an eyebrow and gave her an expectant look.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Show me  _ all _ the data you’ve collected. I want to see the blood analysis and the math and make sure you two didn’t come to this stupid conclusion by some game of chicken.”

_ “Chicken?” _

With a sound of impatience, Alex waved a hand in vague emphasis, “you know, you’re mad at her so you push her to say yes, and she’s sorry so she doesn’t want to say no, until you both end up agreeing with each other because you’re too proud to admit it’s irresponsible and  _ dangerous _ , and she’s too guilty to tell you that because she doesn’t want you to hate her.”

A bubble of laughter slipped past Lena’s lips as she smiled thinly, giving Alex an appraising look as she reached for the disk, taking it from her with a stern look laced with amusement. 

“You used to like me,” Lena said with a breezy toss of her messy dark hair, trying to soothe the wounded stab in her heart as she turned away from Alex, setting the disk down on the desk.  _ “Hope, _ please bring up the results of my blood infused with Kryptonian blood cells. And bring up the calculations and graphs from yesterday.”

_ “Yes, Miss Luthor.” _

As the screens dotted around the room lit up with an overwhelming amount of data, Alex fixed Lena with a hard look, before softly sighing and reaching out to gently nudge her with her elbow, a flicker of fear in her warm eyes.

“I liked you a lot more when you didn’t have me constantly worried about you being on some path of … I don’t know, self-destruction.”

“Yeah, well, I’m always on that path, so ...“

“I brought you a juice,” Alex murmured.

Lena nodded in thanks and turned away from her, moving over to Kara while trying to maintain an air of indifference, chin raised in a haughty manner, and she plucked a green juice from the cup holder. Lips pursed in a pout as she eyed the two coffee’s that she’d been banned from having, she eyed them with scorn as she took a sip of her juice. Taking a bagel from the bag held out to her by Kara, Lena retreated back to her chair in the corner of the room, a sullen look on her face as she picked at the food and pretended that she wasn’t listening to Alex’s remarks.

“Has your cousin ever done this for someone before?”

“I don’t know,” Kara meekly replied.

“How do you know that your blood isn’t poisonous to her organs?”

“I don’t.”

“Did you think about whether-”

“I’m not a biologist  _ or _ a doctor!” Kara exclaimed, throwing her hands up in defeat, “I know how this all works on Krypton, but no, I don’t know what this will do, but it’s all we can think of. So, can you just tell me if there’s a chance?”

Grumbling quietly to herself, Alex narrowed her eyes at the screens as she studied the data, and Lena climbed to her feet, picking up a slim laptop off her desk and carrying it over to the workbench. Logging in with deft fingers, she slid it towards Alex and nodded her head.

“Here. Feel free to use this for your research. I’m going to make breakfast.”

“I’ll help!” Kara eagerly volunteered, slipping off the bed.

_ “You _ need to stay under the lamps until your sister gives us  _ permission _ ,” Lena smoothly warned her, giving Alex a snide look.

Making a sound of indignation at the back of her throat, Alex furiously typed away at the keyboard, a furrow between her eyebrows as her eyes stayed glued to the screen.

“You might be a genius but I’m the only one here with an  _ actual _ medical degree. Bioengineering doesn’t make you an expert in this.”

“A medical degree doesn’t make  _ you _ an expert either.”

“I don’t think anyone’s an expert,” Kara called out, words muffled by a mouthful of another bagel, “it’s alien and  _ none _ of us knows what could happen. But if we all work together-”

Lena let out a quiet scoff of laughter and walked back over to her desk, picking up her juice and making for the door. She stepped out into the hallway as Kara’s hope speech trailed off into silence. Making her way to the kitchen, Lena bristled with unfounded frustration as she banged pots and pans, raiding the stocked fridge and the cupboards as she whipped up oatmeal and banana pancakes, making enough to feed a small army.

It took her nearly an hour, a long and tense hour of stillness and quiet mutterings to her stomach as she occasionally felt a squirming movement inside. By the time she’d finished, it was already lunchtime and she felt so queasy that she couldn’t even bring herself to eat more than a mouthful of a pancake, leaving the counters spread with enough food for a feast - or one Kryptonian. 

Heading back to the converted room with weary resignation, Lena stepped in through the open door to heavy silence hanging between the two sisters as Kara slumped tiredly with her arm held out, blood trickling into a vial Alex was holding.

“Breakfast is in the kitchen,” Lena curtly announced. 

“I’m just … drawing her blood,” Alex said, pulling the vial away and replacing it with another, “checking the radiation levels.”

“She should be depleted by now,” Lena said, flopping down onto her chair and slouching, “her levels were getting low the last time I tested her. That was at four this morning.”

“Well, I think we’re going to need to run tests for a few more days before we make any rash decisions.”

Lena let out a short laugh, straightening up and giving Alex’s back a mild look of surprise. “Who’s this  _ we? _ Kara and  _ I _ get to make the decision.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Alex gave her a reproving look, a faint smile playing on her lips, “oh, so  _ now _ you’re in agreement?”

Bristling slightly, Lena climbed to her feet and walked over to her, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Kara have her blood drawn, basking in the wan red glow of the sun lamps. It cast a ghoulish light over Kara’s face, making her look drawn and tired, a slump to her shoulders, and Lena eyed her with wariness.

“She can’t stay under here for days while we run more tests.”

“Of course not,” Alex scoffed, “she should go outside and recharge once I’ve taken this sample.”

“What?” Kara blurted out, face lighting up with surprise, “no, I can’t. It’ll take another day to deplete me again. And the baby-”

“Will be fine for another day.”

“You think,” Lena sharply cut in. “We can’t know for sure if we’re impeding her growth and development with each passing moment. I, for one, would rather not wait.”

Removing the last vial, Alex capped it and set it on the rack of test tubes already filled with blood, before rounding on Lena. Her mouth was turned down at the corners as she gave her a grim look of concern.

“Look, Lena, I know you trust your instincts, but you need to be  _ sure _ . If this goes south … well, I’m just trying to help make sure it doesn’t.”

“I appreciate that,” Lena honestly replied, voice softening as she tried to rein in her frustration, “but I did the math, and I’m willing to take the risks. And Kara agrees with me, so …”

Opening her mouth, Kara quickly shut it again, looking down at the ground as guilty shame coloured her cheeks a dark red in the light of the lamps. Clearing her throat again, Kara drew in a shuddering breath and peeked sideways at Lena. 

“I’d rather be sure though, and seeing as Alex is a doctor, I think that we should wait-”

“Of  _ course _ you won’t trust me with this,” Lena said with a strained laugh, a spasm of hurt crossing her face as her heart sank, “you never do.”

“Lena-”

“No, just … forget about it,” Lena bitingly replied. 

Eyes bright with angry tears, Lena quickly turned away, shoulders hunched as she stormed towards the door. She heard the quick patter of footsteps following after her and tensed at the gentle grip on her arm, looking down at the wiry fingers wrapped around her bicep.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” Kara quietly begged, a plea colouring her words.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Lena’s hackles rose in defiance as irritation swept through her. Roughly jerking her arm out of Kara’s grip, Lena didn’t even look at her as she replied in a low voice, trembling with hurt.

“You know what, I think I  _ will _ .”

Swiftly exiting the room, she disappeared into the warren of the mansion, leaving Kara looking after her with a forlorn look on her face. Sighing heavily, she let her go and turned back around to stare at Alex, who winced apologetically as she fiddled with the haematology analyser.

“Sorry, I think that was my fault.”

Rubbing at her tired eyes, every inch of her body saturated with an unfamiliar weakness, Kara trudged back over to the bed with a despondent slump to her shoulders. She felt drained by more than just the red sun lamps, her nerves frayed from endlessly worrying about Lena and the baby.

“No, it’s fine,” Kara dismissively replied, “I just- I told her I’d trust her on this. We were supposed to be working together. We were starting to get along again and now … now she hates me all over again.”

“She loves you,” Alex murmured, a look of sympathy on her face as she reached out to squeeze Kara’s arm. “You’re just … making it very easy for her to hate you too.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Kara wrestled with her torn loyalties. Lena was headstrong and willful, contrary in her hormonal fluxes, while Alex was more level-headed and rational, and Kara didn’t know which one to put her faith in to help her unborn daughter. Both were sure they were right, and she believed them both too, but they were dealing with something that none of them truly knew much about.

“Yeah, well, that’s nothing new,” Kara sourly muttered.

“Kara, I know you love her too, and I know you hate to hurt her, but this isn’t about her pride, okay? This is dangerous science, and it might sound good in theory, you might think that you’ve worked out a way to make it work, but you don’t know for sure, and you can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. The baby could die.  _ Lena _ could die.”

“I know!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Kara rubbed at her temples as her frustration got the better of her. Feeling tense and tired and feeling the strange hollowness of vulnerability and hunger, she softly sighed.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t snap at you.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I get it. You’ve been under these lamps for  _ hours _ , you probably just need to get something to eat.”

“Yeah,” Kara relented, shoulders slumping as she exhaled.

Clapping a hand on her shoulder, Alex gave her a small smile and jerked her head towards the door, “come on. Let’s get you some breakfast. Or lunch.”

“I think I’ll just … stay here a moment,” Kara slowly replied, “you go on ahead.”

Pausing, Alex nodded, leaving Kara alone in the room. She fiddled with the sun lamps to occupy her fidgety hands, turning them off one by one and shifting them away from the bed in case they had need of it, lining them up on the other side of the room as she huffed and struggled, limbs aching in her weakened state. She was by no means  _ weak _ for a lack of yellow radiation coursing through her, but significantly so to make a noticeable difference.

The sound of something printing caught her attention as she put down another lamp, and Kara looked up, eyes scanning the room before her gaze landed on the haematology analyser as a strip of paper printed. With wary curiosity, Kara picked her way through the scattered equipment, grasping the paper as it pooled against the metal surface of the bench it sat on. 

At the whirring sound of the printer cutting off, Kara slowly tore the paper from the machine and moved into the amber glow of the overhead chandelier, hunching over the results, the smell of ammonia and fresh paper strong in the air. Her eyes ran over the string of information as her brow puckered, and she didn’t even see Lena step into the room, too absorbed in her thoughts to hear the soft tread of her slippers.

“What’s that?”

Head jerking up, Kara startled slightly, eyes widening, before her expression softened. She’d instinctively scrunched the paper in her first, and quickly hurried to smooth it back out as she held it aloft, a shoulder rising and falling in non-committal half-shrug.

“My blood analysis.”

Lena stepped up beside her, feeling the all-too-familiar straining beneath her shirt as the baby sensed Kara’s nearness, something that seemed to run even deeper than just heightened senses from the yellow sun radiation. Pressing her hand against the gentle swell of her stomach, Lena reached out with her other hand to take the slip of wrinkled paper, the length of it sliding through Kara’s limp hands.

“Your radiation levels are safe,” Lena murmured, voice thick with emotion.

She scrunched the paper up and shoved it back into Kara’s hand, drawing in a shuddering breath as she met her eyes. 

“I came to apologise,” Lena blurted out in a rush, seeming to deflate as she got the words out. “I know you’re trying to do what’s best, and I’m sorry for getting mad at you. I  _ know _ you’re a good person, I just- well … I’m not. I’m … selfish, and childish, and I just-”

Cutting off, mouth snapping shut and lips pressing together in a flat line, keeping the rest of her sentence trapped inside, unspoken. A delicate pink flooded Lena’s cheeks and she ducked her head down, shaking her head with a repentant air of remorse shrouding her.

“You should like yourself a bit more,” Kara softly replied, her voice light and a tender, crooked smile softening her expression as she ducked her head down, trying to catch Lena’s eye. “There’s a lot to like. Believe me, I should know.”

Quietly scoffing with laughter, Lena raised her head and rolled her eyes, not quite looking at Kara as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, mouth twisting in a rueful smile. “Sure. Well, I just wanted to say sorry.”

Nodding her head in firm resolution, solemn broodiness to her face as her eyebrows furrowed together, Lena paused for a moment before turning to leave.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Kara murmured, darting in front of her with her hand held out to keep her at bay, a troubled look of apprehension on her face as she floundered with a moment, “I want to help.”

Expression wilting, Lena’s shoulders drooped as she gave Kara a grim smile. “I know.”

“No, I mean- let’s do it.”

_ “What?” _

“My blood is fine. Let’s … let’s do it now. I said we’d make the decision together, and I’m telling you I’m in. I’m in all the way. I trust you.”

Moving in dangerously close, Kara touched Lena’s stomach, making her stiffen beneath the heat of her fingertips running over her shirt, and she found herself rooted to the spot, lips parted as she drew in a sharp breath. So close, close enough to see the pulse jumping in Kara’s throat, the way her larynx bobbed as she swallowed, and Kara’s eyes were wide and insistent, no shred of doubt dwelling in them.

“You’re … serious,” Lena said with bewildered surprise, taken aback by the sudden change of heart.

“Yes.”

“But you-”

“I’m scared,” Kara admitted, jutting her chin forward, “but there’s no  _ easy _ way out of this, so we’ll just- we’ll make the hard choice together, right? No one to blame if it doesn’t work. No one else’s input. You’re right; this is  _ our _ baby. I’m letting my sister’s opinions fill me with doubt, and maybe she's right, but it’s not her decision, even if she’s going to think we’re reckless and stupid. I’ll be reckless and stupid with _you.”_

A small laugh bubbled up inside Lena and fell from her lips as a smile stretched across her face, genuine warmth shining in her eyes as she looked at Kara, reaching down to touch her hand resting on her stomach.

“Let’s do it.”

Nodding, Kara pulled away and set the balled up strip of paper on the bench and fetched the office chair Lena had previously occupied, before sitting down in it. 

“Okay, I’ll inject myself with the preventatives first,” Lena said, a nervous tremble in her voice as she cast Kara a cautious look, “and then I’ll take your blood.”

Looking a little pale with worry, Kara nodded and sat on the chair as Lena moved about, setting up medical equipment and fetching supplies. Filling a needle with growth factor to boost her white blood count, Lena took a deep breath to steady herself and slipped the needle into her arm, gritting her teeth as she pushed down on the plunger and steadily injected herself with the protein. Next came the potassium iodine, and Lena quickly cleaned up after herself, before turning to Kara.

In the time it took to take a unit of blood from Kara, the blood bag slowly filling until it was bloated with deep red blood, and the subsequent time it took for Lena to hang the bag on an IV pole, stretched out on the bed as the monitor beeped with her rapid heart rate, Alex headed back to the room with a plate piled high with pancakes for her sister.

With the squeeze of Kara’s hand, Lena gave her an encouraging nod, before she slipped a needle into the green vein at the crook of her elbow and lay back, staring up at the ceiling as she waited for the effects of the blood slowly seeping into her system. Looking grey with worry, Kara stood over her like a quiet sentinel keeping guard, and Lena stared up at the fresco on the ceiling as her brow prickled with nervous sweat.

“What have you done?” Alex hoarsely replied as she stepped into the room, plate in hand and a wide-eyed look of horror on her face as her mouth fell open.

She took in the scene within moments, stumbling over to a bench and setting the pancakes down a little too heavily, before darting to Lena’s side with a severe hardness to her face. Eyes dark with anger and dread in the line of her mouth, Alex looked at Kara with accusing eyes.

After a momentary pause, she reached out for the tube snaking up to Lena’s arm, vivid red blood seeping into her body drip by drip, and looked up with surprise as Kara’s fingers wrapped around her arm and stilled her. With a choked sound of disbelief, Alex looked at her again with incredulity, at a loss for words as understanding washed over her.

“And if they die?” Alex asked, her voice rough and demanding.

“Then I’ll never forgive myself,” Kara replied, voice breaking as pain spasmed across her face.

She could feel her sister’s eyes burning into the side of her face, yet Kara only had eyes for Lena. They stood at a stalemate for a moment longer, before Alex gently pulled her arm back and Kara peeled her fingers off her skin. 

The tension in the air was thick and palpable as both women stood shoulder to shoulder in stiff silence, each moment weighted with worry as Lena lay still, looking at Kara with reassurance in her green eyes. The monitors beeped steadily, a comforting presence as they waited. For what, none of them knew, but the air was close with fear and ominous foreboding.

Time slipped by without reaction, aside from both Lena and the baby’s heartbeats charting a little stronger as the machines beeped, not quite as shallow anymore, although the baby’s was just as fast as ever. It gave them hope that they’d made the right call, and yet the room was filled with restless energy as the hours slipped by.

It was two hours into the slow transfusion that things started to go south. Lena had drifted off into an uneasy sleep after the first hour, her slow, deep breaths a reassuring sign that it  _ was  _ just sleeping, but even as she rested, Kryptonian blood flowed through her veins, binding to her cells, and there were changes they couldn’t account for. 

“She looks a little flushed,” Kara said, speaking for the first time in a long while as she reached out to press the back of her hand against Lena’s perspiring forehead. “She’s burning up too. Is that normal?”

Moving quickly to her side, Alex peered down at her, shifting the overhead lamp so it illuminated Lena’s face, giving her a ghastly tint, even as a red blush crept into her colourless cheeks.

“Mm. Even normal transfusions can cause fevers. We’ll monitor it.”

An hour later, her skin was burning hot to the touch, sweat plastering Lena’s shirt to her as she writhed on the table. Kara’s face was taut with panic, distress written into the hard lines of it as she tried to pin her down, a damp cloth uselessly clenched in her hand.

“Something’s wrong,” Kara said, voice wrought with alarm, breaking mid-sentence as she looked at Alex with frantic eyes.

“We need to get her fever down, it’s too high,” Alex coolly replied, stoic and calm despite the concern that flashed in her eyes. “We need to move her. Go and fill the tub with ice.”

With a lump in her throat, Kara stared at Lena with wide eyes for a moment, reluctant to leave her side for a moment, before she tore her eyes away from her fitful tossing and hurried from the room. There were bags of ice stocked in a chest freezer to help combat Lena’s feverish bouts, and Kara carried as many as she could, leaving a trail of water behind her as she made for the closest bathroom.

Ice rattled against the bottom of the porcelain tub as she tore a bag open and upended it. One after the other, until the bath was half full of ice, before she turned on the cold water and watched it ripple through the gaps. Leaving the bath to fill, she rushed back to the living room and stopped beside Alex, who was pinning Lena down by her shoulders, sodden shirt torn open to reveal a rash that had spread across her chest and stomach and the needle removed from her arm.

“You take her arms,” Alex ordered.

Mouth opening and closing, Kara swallowed her questions and nodded, gently easing Lena’s torso up with a sticky sound as she peeled Lena’s sweaty skin off the padded vinyl cover. Her head lolled against Kara’s shoulder, and Kara met Alex’s eyes as her sister grabbed Lena’s legs behind the knees. 

In tandem, they lifted her off the bed, her limp weight heavier with the addition of the baby’s bone density, and the heat of her skin was too hot in Kara’s hands as they shuffled their way towards the door, trying to be gentle. Palms slick with sweat from the contact, they had to keep pausing to shift Lena into a more secure grip as they carried her down the hallway, struggling to be careful.

“I’ve called Brainy. She can't stay in the ice too long or it'll make it worse. He might be able to help,” Alex said as she stepped into the tiled bathroom, treading carefully on the floor.

Kara’s heart seized with worry, but she just nodded, swallowing thickly as they moved over to the bath, which was starting to fill. Ice clinked against the edge of the tub in a soothing manner as water thundered out of the tap, and they gently lowered Lena into the frigid bath. Her face was pink, her eyes closed and lips cracked and dry, and Kara knelt beside her as Alex turned the tap off.

Body buoyed by the water, Lena settled in the sloshing water, her hair floating around her head like a halo of inky darkness. Carefully lifting her so that she rested against the sloped side of the tub, head above water, Kara brushed wet tendrils of hair out of her face and watched as her eyes rolled aimlessly beneath closed lids.

“Lena,” she whispered, strangled and desperate as she cupped the back of Lena’s neck.

A small moan caught in the back of Lena’s throat passed through her lips as a barely audible sigh, her brow puckering, and Kara went weak with relief as a ragged breath was expelled from her lungs. Deflating on her knees, a faint smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at Lena, watching her wet lashes flutter as she struggled to open her eyes.

“Hey, you’re okay,” Kara gently assured her, heart soaring in her chest as she glanced over her shoulder to look at Alex, who had a hand pressed to her chest, anxious yet composed.

Turning back to Lena, Kara’s smile widened a fraction as she cupped Lena’s face in her hand, propping her up slightly. Eyelids peeling open, Lena stared at her through slits, pupils blown wide and the whites of her eyes red with burst blood vessels.

Sucking in a sharp breath as she blanched, Kara opened her mouth to say something when Lena convulsed. Back arching, stomach protruding even further than normal, Lena jerked in the bath, the length of her throat exposed as strained tendons stood out beneath the skin. Head lolling to the side, she pitched forward, and Kara cradled her back, fingers splayed over the bumps of her spine as she helped her sit up.

In one heaving motion that shuddered down the length of her body, Lena hunched over the side of the bath, wet hair hanging in thick ropes around her face as she dripped water all over the tiled floor, and after a momentary pause, her shoulders rolled as she emptied the contents of her stomach right at Kara’s feet, bile burning its way up her throat as she limply hung her head over the side. 

The silence that followed blanketed the bathroom as the water stilled and no one moved, the smell of vomit making Kara’s stomach turn, before she slowly moved, easing Lena back over the edge of the tub to fall back against the sloped side. Ice rattled and ripples cascaded out from the movements and Kara watched as her eyes rolled up into her head and her whole body went slack.

Dread knifed through her as cold fear slid down her spine and coiled in her stomach and Kara lurched to her feet in a clumsy panic. Splashing into the tub, she dropped down hard in between Lena’s legs, water sloshing dangerously over the sides and pooling on the floor as Alex hurried over to them, side-stepping the vomit with a contemptuous look of horror.

“Lena,” Kara softly called to her, grasping her warm face in her hands as they trembled, her voice fraught with dread and thick with tears as her eyes burned with the effort to not dissolve into tears.  _ “Lena.” _

Alex leant down and pressed two fingers against Lena’s throat, feeling her pulse, and let out a heavy huff of contentment as the tension in her shoulders went slack. Dark eyes rising to meet Kara’s hollow expression, Alex gave her a reassuring nod.

“Her pulse is steady. It’s strong.”

“What’s  _ happening _ to her?”

“I don’t know,” Alex murmured, wincing at how helpless the words were, “I think … maybe her body is just having a stronger reaction than it would to a normal transfusion.”

Closing her eyes as she knelt in the frigid water, Kara choked back a sound of hysteria around the constricting feeling in her throat and chest, and forced in a shuddering lungful of air. Eyes snapping back open, Kara stared at Lena’s flushed face and gently smoothed her thumb over a sharp cheekbone, a mournful look of yearning on her face as her heart ached.

“I’m going to call Brainy again. Don’t leave her side.”

A bubble of laughter got stuck in Kara’s throat as she sniffed, the thought of leaving Lena for even a moment oddly amusing, considering the fact that she’d have to be torn away for that to happen. Instead, Kara shifted to the side, lifting Lena’s limp form and cradling her against her as she stretched out in the cold water, ice melting at her touch.

_ “Riz i ehl. Gehdiv :dehdh sit ugem. Zhgam vo khap : vo krytiv inah.” _

Kara whispered the words in Lena’s ear, caressing her cheek as she held her close, hoping that her presence would comfort her and the baby. She already felt marginally cooler as the cold from the ice burrowed into her skin, bringing down her core temperature. Now, she was slack like a ragdoll, unconscious and still.

She stayed with her the twenty minutes that it took Brainy to arrive, checking her pulse and temperature, resting her hand against Lena’s bruised bump to feel the reassuring kick of her daughter, strong despite the distress. There wasn’t much  _ to _ do except wait, Alex hooking Lena up to an IV of saline and injecting her with a low dose of corticosteroids.

Eventually, there was a distant knock on the front door and Alex scurried away to answer it, returning a few moments later with Brainy following behind, wearing his DEO uniform as he smoothly crossed the bathroom, hands clasped behind his back and a guarded look on his face.

“Hm.”

“Brainy,” Kara breathlessly greeted him, a frail smile on her trembling lips as she shifted in the bath, relinquishing her grip on Lena as she eased her into an upright position against the curled rim of the bath and climbed out.

Alex handed her a towel and Kara wrapped it around her shoulders as she dripped all over the floor. Stepping up next to the bath, Brainy leaned over Lena with an unabashed look of curiosity in his dark eyes, dark hair falling into his face as he hummed in a disconcerting manner. Hands still clasped behind his back, he loomed over her, head cocked to the side and observed her from every angle, before reaching out to gently tilt her chin up.

Straightening, he turned on his heel and gave Kara a warm smile, “not to worry. She’s just undergoing a form of cytotherapy. Xenogenic cell therapy. Humans are still experimenting with this science, although they haven’t made it to human trials with cell therapy yet. Still working on animals, I believe. But I’m ninety-eight-point-three percent certain that Lena will  _ not _ experience cellular rejection.”

_ “Cellular rejection?” _ Kara spluttered, her voice cracking with alarm as sickening dread cut through her.

“Given the advanced physiological development of Kryptonians, I believe her natural killer cells will be easily subdued by your stronger DNA. Although, the risk of cellular rejection could’ve been avoided altogether if you’d introduced donor stem cells into Lena’s bone marrow. They would’ve coexisted with her stem cells as if they were part of her.”

“You’re sure?”

“Very,” Brainy solemnly nodded, a bright spark of intrigue in his eyes, “I ran several hundred calculations on the way over and accessed my ancestral memories through the Big Brain to determine whether such procedures had ever been performed before.”

Eyes innocently wide and hopeful, Kara looked at him with anxious expectation, “and do you know if they have?”

Brainy held up a finger and paused for a moment, before he slowly paced, “no.”

_ “No?” _

“If Kryptonians were in the habit of experimenting with human DNA, there’s no evidence of it with my people.”

Making a low sound of frustration at the back of her throat as she scoffed, Kara nodded, a dark look clouding her face. “I doubt it. Krypton has always thought itself superior. More advanced. So, what do we do now?”

Turning sharply on his heel, Brainy stepped in between Alex and Kara, poking his head over their shoulders as the trio of them stared down at the pale figure up to her chest in ice water. He made a murmuring sound of consideration.

“She needs rest. She can’t stay in the bath for long or her core temperature will begin to rise to combat the cold. Once her temperature is within a safe range for a human, move her to her bed. By my calculations, it will take a few days for her body to adjust and assimilate.”

“Thank you, Brainy,” Kara softly sighed, reaching up to briefly touch his shoulder.

He gave her a grave nod, expression clouded as he met her eyes.

“When she wakes, please tell Lena that I hope she’s had time to unpack some boxes. And please pass on my congratulations about-” he waves vaguely at the mottled bump breaching the surface of the water,  _ “that.” _

With a quiet snort of laughter, Kara gave him a wan smile, “I will.”

He smiled slightly in return, and Kara could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, a sign of the worry that he didn’t show. Yet, he still cared in his own way, and she was grateful to him for coming to reassure her. His calculations and knowledge were beyond even Lena’s, although she easily kept pace at times, and it was comforting to know that Brainy was confident that she’d pull through it. Whether unscathed or not wasn’t mentioned.

Kara walked him to the front door and gave him a half-hearted wave, before she locked the door, shutting out the sunlight with a glowering look at the sun and making her way back to the bathroom. Alex was mopping up the vomit with a towel while keeping an eye on Lena’s temperature, and Kara hovered in the doorway, feeling helpless in her half-dressed state as she hugged the towel around herself.

“She’s going to be okay,” Alex firmly stated.

“Yeah.”

“Both of them.”

“Yeah.”

“Go and eat some pancakes and sit outside. You need to recharge.”

Hesitating, Kara’s teeth worried at her lip as she looked at Lena’s face, no longer pink but a ghostly greyish as the cold seeped into her. As if sensing her thoughts that Lena would need to be moved soon, as soon as the dangerously high temperature that had formed with her pregnancy cooled, Alex gave her sister a crooked smile.

“I’ll come and get you when she needs to be moved.”

With a fleeting grin, Kara mumbled her thanks and disappeared from the forbidding bathroom. The sight of the overwhelming stack of pancakes Lena had made earlier on made Kara’s heart twinge with sadness, a wrenching ache that made her miss every single snarky comment Lena had thrown at her over the past few weeks, and she loaded up a plate with glum resignation.

Retreating outside, Kara sat on a rusted iron bench situated amidst wilting rose bushes, a snarling tangle of thorns and browning leaves as autumn was ushered in, and she drank in the warmth of the overhead sun, feeling it recharge her depleted cells as she filled the hollow hunger in her stomach. Once she was done, she stretched out on the bench, face turned up to the sun as her stomach and legs drank in as much radiation as she could soak up in a short amount of time.

Slowly, Kara felt her senses grow more acute, slightly more sensitive. Not enough to make much of a difference - she would need a solid chunk of time dedicated to fully saturating her body with the radiation from the yellow sun - but the sound of the wind picked up, the rustling of leaves minutely louder, the ache in her body somewhat subdued and the weave of her running shorts and sports bra a little itchy as she became dimly aware of the fact that her touch had grown more sensitive. Even the sky seemed a deeper blue as her vision grew sharper, the colours richer and the blurred acuity of normal vision heightening to beyond human ability. 

As a result, Kara heard the sound of the French doors leading to the kitchen opening and she turned her head to the side, shading her eyes as she looked to Alex. Sitting up quickly, Kara fetched her plate and towel and ran across the overgrown lawn, her movements blurring together ever so slightly with the slight increase in her speed. She was only a fraction as quick as normal, but there was something vaguely inhuman in the way her outline became indistinct as she moved towards her sister.

“Fever’s down two degrees. We should move her before her body tries to raise it again.”

They made quick work of getting Lena out of the tub, Kara’s fatigue no longer hindering them, although her strength was a shadow of its usual self. Carefully wrapping Lena in soft towels, Kara scooped her up in her arms, mouth thinning at the effort, and followed Alex upstairs. 

She’d only ventured upstairs a few times, equal parts curious and guilty as she cracked open doors to dusty rooms to catch a glimpse of Lena’s childhood, but Lena’s trestle bed she insisted on sleeping on wouldn’t do for her to get proper rest. Instead, Alex went on ahead as Kara staggered up the stairs, leaving spots of water soaked into the scarlet runner in a trail behind her, and by the time she reached the landing, Alex had the door open to one the closest room Kara had discovered.

It was dark and stuffy, the air stale and close with disuse, and Kara scuffed footprints into the layer of dust coating the old floorboards as she walked over to the bed. Setting her down gently, bundled up in her towels, Kara stepped back and watched the shallow rise and fall of Lena’s chest for a moment, before her attention was drawn away by the heavy sound of cloth flapping as Alex tore open a pair of curtains.

Sunlight slanted in, cutting through the gloom, and the window took some force to open, groaning on its rusted hinges as a rush of fresh air swept in. Kara moved towards another set of windows around the other side of the large poster bed, letting in more sunshine and chasing the stagnant air out of the abandoned room.

“We should change the sheets as soon as possible,” Alex murmured, “she’s going to soak through them anyway, but all the dust isn’t good for her lungs.”

“I’ll see what’s around,” Kara replied as her eyes darted around the room.

The furniture was made from dark, sturdy wood, antique and expensive. An armoire stood in one corner, a chest of drawers beside it, while a small vanity and an overstuffed armchair and ottoman sat in the empty space between the bed and a large fireplace set into the panelled wall. The grate was empty and cold, a gaping mouth in the wall. 

“I’ll bring up the equipment,” Alex said after a few moments of silence.

Sinking onto the foot of the bed, Kara waited with Lena, taking in the purple smudges beneath her closed eyes, a haunted look to her pasty face that made Kara suppress a shiver. She hoped that her cells would be able to help Lena. Hopefully, it would lend her some strength to fight against the baby leaching away her strength. 

As much as Kara loved their unborn daughter, she was surprised at the small flicker of resentment as she looked at Lena. Looked at what her decision had cost her. Frustration flared to life in Kara, thinking about how different things might’ve turned out if Lena had come to her sooner, or if she’d stubbornly refused to leave her when she’d found out. Kara couldn’t help but feel guilty at the fact that she’d caved so easily to the guilt she’d felt about lying to Lena. It felt like a self-defeating cycle, one that she couldn’t have won, and yet she felt no better for that fact. 

Tears stung her eyes as a pressure built up behind them, and she wallowed in her misery as she listened to Alex’s footsteps return, muffled on the carpeted stairs. With the IV stand in hand, Alex slipped a needle into a vein on Lena’s arm and taped it into place, a bag of saline hanging from it to keep her hydrated as her fever smouldered on. A small monitor for her vitals was attached to the stand, and Alex made quick work of attaching the various leads to Lena’s body, along with the fetal heart rate monitor.

Leaving her to set everything up, Kara made her way downstairs to raid a closet of cleaning supplies, before carrying it all upstairs. As Alex made Lena comfortable and administered the medical care she needed, Kara set about wiping down all the surfaces and sweeping the floor. The air soon held a faint tang of citrus and dust motes spiralled through the air, disturbed.

Both women came and went, one of them in the room at a time to monitor Lena as they purified the room. The velvet hangings of the bed had blocked a thick layer of dust from coating the quilt, but Kara freshly laundered some sheets and had Alex help her make the bed and remove the hangings. She mopped the floors with bleach to rid the room of any lingering dirt as it started to rain outside, the sweet dampness flooding in with a cold wind, while Alex drew blood from Lena to test downstairs. And while her sister ordered pizza for dinner, Kara polished the panelled walls to a deep burnish, keeping up a running stream of commentary to the unconscious form on the bed as she worked.

Dusk was creeping in by the time she took a seat on a stiff-backed wooden chair brought up from the kitchen table, replacing the musty armchair, slowly making her way through three boxes of pizza without her usual gusto. Kara felt tired, and not just physically from the red sun lamps. Fretting over Lena had completely depleted her, and yet she persevered. 

For three days, she scrubbed and cleaned, changing sheets as Lena’s fever raged and abated and she sweat through the sheets, wiping her brow with damp cloths every ten minutes as they warmed beneath her touch and dripping chicken broth between parched lips that she tried her best to keep soft with the cherry lip balm in her bag. The windows stayed open the entire time, the bitter wind chasing the malingering odour of sickness from the room even as Lena shivered from the chill that took her. 

Kara barely slept the whole time, short-tempered and red-eyed, only relenting when she felt like she was going to pass out, and only with the assurance that Alex wouldn’t leave Lena’s side. It was taxing and by the third day, there was a haggard look to Kara’s thin face, a grey pallor of dread, as if she was weighed down with the knowledge that she’d doomed Lena and their unborn daughter.

In the long hours of the night, as the clock inched towards dawn on the fourth day, Kara was sitting on her chair pulled up to the side of the bed, her hand in Lena’s as she dozed, doubled over with her cheek pressed into the clean sheets when she felt a slight flutter of Lena’s fingers in hers. Blinking herself awake, Kara’s head slowly rose, a look of longing in her bleary eyes as she looked to Lena.

Her chest rose and fell in even breaths, and Kara was starting to think she’d startled herself back to full consciousness when she felt the feeble squeeze of her fingers. Looking down at their joined hands, she watched Lena’s knuckles whiten slightly with the effort and stilled, half-risen from her seat, breath caught in her chest.

“Lena?” Kara hoarsely asked, tentative and hopeful.

With a long, stuttering sigh, Lena’s chest caved in as her lips twitched. 

“Kara,” she mumbled, a weary sigh.

Relief slammed into Kara as she sat down heavily, the breath expelled from her lungs as she weakly laughed, tears pricking her eyes as a wide smile broke across her face, cutting through all the worry and tension of the past few days. 

“You’re awake,” Kara lightly said, climbing to her feet as she shook all over.

Resting a hand against Lena’s forehead, she felt the cool touch of her skin. The fever had broken, leaving her clammy and warm, but not burning to the touch, and Kara felt her knotted muscles unwind for the first time in days.

“Mm. I’m tired.”

“It’s okay, you can sleep.”

“Wait,” Lena softly replied, her voice a faint sigh as her grip tightened on Kara’s hand. “Did it work?”

With a strangled laugh, Kara gave the back of her hand a gentle pat as her face spasmed with a wince of amusement.

“I’m not sure yet. You’re both okay though.”

“Good.”

Lena seemed to visibly relax against the soft mattress, the tautness of her face going slack as he slowly breathed out. 

“How long have I been out?”

“Nearly four days,” Kara said, voice cracking.

With a quiet huff, Lena’s eyelashes fluttered, her mouth turning down at the corners with regret. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re awake. I’ve missed you.”

“I dreamt about you. I was floating. It was peaceful. And you were there; you were saying something I didn’t understand.”

With an embarrassed laugh, Kara felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she ducked her head. “That wasn’t a dream. It was Kryptonian. You- I thought you were unconscious.”

“What did it mean?”

Stalling, Kara smoothed her thumb over the bumps of Lena’s knuckles, clearing her throat. “Brainy came to check on you. We thought you- well … I thought we’d made the worst decision possible. He said you’d wake up though. You just needed time. And he said … he said he hoped you’d had time to unpack your boxes. Whatever that means.”

Lena let out a shuddering laugh, shaking against the bed as her lips twitched with a thin smile. Eyebrows rising with curiosity, Kara looked at her with tender warmth, her face softening with humour as she delighted in the sound of Lena’s feeble laughter.

“What does it mean?”

“I asked you first,” Lena murmured, voice coloured with amusement as her eyes opened to thin slits, dark in the blackness of the room. 

Quietly laughing, Kara ran her free hand over her face and through her dishevelled hair, shaking her head exasperatedly as she gave Lena a grim look of mirth.

“I asked you to wake up.”

“You’re lying,” Lena stubbornly murmured. 

Kara wasn’t quite sure how she could tell, but she felt a hot flush turn her face red and was glad for the darkness, her pulse jumping as her palms turned clammy. Sighing in weary resignation, Kara closed her eyes, lips twitching slightly with an awkward smile.

“I said it was time to wake up now, my yellow sun. I said it was time to come back to me and to our daughter.”

Humming in deliberation, Lena’s eyes slid shut again as she thumbed the back of Kara’s hand, smoothing the soft skin with the pad of her thumb as Kara stared down at their entwined hands.

“Yellow sun. Why?”

“You … make me strong,” Kara confessed, letting out a shaky sigh, “you’ve always seen me for who I am. For  _ Kara. _ A human that has- has needs and wants, just like everyone else. I’ve always been  _ so _ different, always missed out on so many human things out of fear. I knew I’d never have a normal life and I just- I craved intimacy and touch. I craved love. And then I became Supergirl and it was like … I’d felt ignored for so long that it was just nice to feel special sometimes. But then I -  _ Kara -  _ got lost in the middle of it all, because I never had anyone I was close to, to just make me feel like myself. Every time I tried to be normal, it felt like I was living in a cage.”

Swallowing thickly, Kara chewed on the inside of her lip as she blinked back the burning pressure building behind her eyes. Her voice was thick with emotion, low and raspy as she continued.

“And the lines just grew more and more blurry between where I ended and Supergirl started. Until I met you. You made everything make sense, and you made me feel strong, not as Supergirl, but as Kara. As myself. And it wasn’t until then that I realised that I didn’t want to have the world's attention. Just yours. To be honest, all I’ve wanted since I met you is to buy a little house and spend my whole life with you. Is it wrong that I still dream about a future with you?”

“What are we without dreams?” Lena faintly replied.

Kara let out a small scoff of laughter, shaking her head as a twinge of bitterness ached in her chest.

“So, boxes? I’m assuming you don’t have anything that needs unpacking lying around.”

“No,” Lena heavily sighed, a frown creasing her brow as she pursed her lips. “I just- I have  _ so _ many parts of myself that I’m not proud of. And no one’s ever been able to understand. I’ve always been empty … and lonely, and I can’t- I can’t express how I feel. It’s hard when you have literally no one to talk to. There’s so much that I’ve been angry about or hurt by and I used to tell myself it wasn’t worth feeling, so I’d shove it down. Box it up. And now … all the things I never said out loud are stuck inside me.”

With a sorrowful look of yearning on her face, Kara squeezed Lena’s hand, her heart in her throat as she held on tightly, clinging to the vulnerable moment for as long as she could. Words meant more at night, in the late hours where the soul lay bare, exposed to the darkness as they plucked up the courage to say the things that had meaning. Kara knew that this conversation would never happen in the light of day, and she considered the fact that perhaps it wasn’t just their words that meant more at night, but themselves too. It was like the night leant them more substance, like they truly existed in those early hours before dawn.

“Tell me all the things you never said out loud.”

She half thought Lena wouldn’t reply, would shy around the topic rather than lay her heart bare before the person who had hurt her, feign tiredness to evade it like she’d avoided Kara for all those months. But the night leant her courage and she softly sighed.

“I tell myself that I’m over you now,” Lena said, her voice wavering and thin, on the cusp of tears as her words were leant a scratchy tenor. “But then I see you and everything just goes to waste. And in all the times I was hurt by my family, and by friends ... no one ever prepared me for the crippling pain of losing someone who was … never mine.”

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Lena’s chest expanded as she held it inside her, still and silent, before it gusted out of her and she deflated again.

“There’s a reason why I said I’d be happy alone, why I dated people I knew I could never truly love. It wasn’t because I thought I’d be happy, it was because … I thought if I loved someone and it- it didn’t work out, I might not make it. I’ve only ever known loss and abandonment, and betrayal and I thought it was better that way, because what if I learned what love is, and I needed it, and then I didn’t- I didn’t have it? I had  _ no _ intention of loving you, believe me.”

She let out a broken laugh, a sob caught at the back of her throat as Kara’s face crumpled with pain, her heart aching for Lena as she listened in silence. 

“I can’t even point out the hour. Or the place, or if you were looking at me, or what you said. I’m not sure what it was that sealed my fate. I think I was in the middle before I even knew it had begun. One day I just- I looked at you and I saw something that I hadn’t the day before. Like a switch had been flipped in my heart. And, unexpectedly, my best friend was … suddenly the only person I could imagine myself with.”

They lapsed into silence, Kara too afraid to speak in fear that a breathless sob would tumble from her mouth and she wouldn’t be able to stop. Instead, silent tears spilt over and slid down her cheeks to fall into her lap as she listened to the hitching of Lena’s shallow breathing as she wrestled with her own quiet tears.

“And I know that it’s not your fault, I just- a lot of bad things happened to me when I was little, and I was too young to know how to put myself back together again. I’m sure you understand … when you lose a parent, you remain trapped in that moment of loss forever, and everything in my life just … broke apart. And I forgot how the pieces were supposed to fit back together. I don’t blame you, because I never expected you to fix me, I just- I never expected to lose you either. And what hurts the most is … when I look back, I realise that I’m the only one who changed. I never got the chance to heal what hurt me, and so I bled on people who didn’t cut me, and now I’m tired. I’m tired of it. Other people always let me down, so I decided to … forget them. To do something for myself, with _her._ Our specimen. And now … I think I’ve broken myself even more because it’s all … so … heavy. I shaped my life around you and now it’s all fallen apart and these feelings just … it just keeps  _ going. _ ”

“I never meant to hurt-”

Eyes squeezed shut as a tear traced its way down her temple and slipped into her hair, Lena sniffed, swallowing thickly as she shook her head. “I know. I know you didn’t. I just- I’m not sure I understand  _ why _ yet. I know you said- I’m just having a hard- a hard time processing. It’s taken me a long time to realise that I- I have to feel the whole spectrum before I can move past it. You can tell Brainy that I- I’ve started.”

With a snort of laughter, Kara reached forward and brushed Lena’s tears away with her knuckles before sitting back down. “You take as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” Kara hoarsely promised.

“Do you- do you think you can stay with me tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Yeah,” Kara whispered, the words coming out choked up and rushed, “yeah, I can do that.”

With a slurred sigh, Lena’s free hand thumped heavily on the mattress beside her, on the empty expanse of the mattress stretching away from her, and her shoulders went slack as she relaxed.

“Then come here.”

Relinquishing her hold on her hand, Kara slowly rose to her feet, the chair scraping against the wooden floorboards, and she rounded the end of the bed, a dark shadow as she kept her eyes trained on Lena, weak moonlight painting the room silver and grey. The mattress groaned beneath her weight as she climbed onto the bed, inching towards Lena and leaving a respectful distance between them as she stretched out on her side, stiff limbs sighing with relief.

Reaching out, Kara touched the back of Lena’s hand, her touch delicate and feather-light, afraid to do more than that. It was comforting, reassuring, and Kara watched her with sharp eyes, tracking every breath, every twitch and beat of her heart.

“Did you think of me when we weren’t together?” Lena asked, voice as gentle as a sigh, already heavy with sleep.

Eyebrows drawing together in a grave look of sincerity, Kara swallowing thickly, her wandering touch stilling. 

“I thought of you all the time. You’re all my heart thinks about.”

“I don’t know what to do with all the love I have for you,” Lena murmured, low and cautious, an undercurrent of warning to the words, “I don’t know where to put it now.”

With a faint laugh, Kara reached out and laid her hand flat against Lena’s bare stomach. Her touch was gentle and caressing, warm against the embers of heat the baby clung to, safe inside, and a ghost of a smile touched the corners of Kara’s mouth as she tenderly stroked the bump.

“Put it right here. The rest will follow.”


	8. Chapter 8

Lena fell asleep holding Kara’s hand as the other woman lay stretched out beside her, vigilant despite the reassuring signs that Lena was okay. But anything could happen overnight, and Kara wasn’t sure what changes her blood had worked on Lena’s body. Her mind was sound, her heart strong, but what damage that might’ve been done to her was still unknown.

Kara didn’t think she would’ve slept even if she hadn’t resolved to stay up all night on guard, too busy thinking about how easily she and Lena could’ve made the wrong decision and jeopardised everything. Of course, they might’ve made the correct one too, but that didn’t help shake the feeling of unease that crept down her spine as she thought about the risk they’d taken.

And yet, they’d taken it together. Despite her reservations, despite being caught between a rock and a hard place, with two people she loved with opposing opinions, Kara had trusted Lena, and it had shown in the early hours of the morning that Lena had reciprocated. In all their years of friendship, and despite the rift cast between them, Lena had opened up to Kara in a way she’d never before, and it helped ease some of her frayed nerves to know that perhaps there was an added benefit to trusting Lena in this.

Not that Kara had ever doubted Lena’s intentions. She knew her friend could be patient in the long game, and reckless when pushed for time, but Lena never did anything unless she was absolutely sure. It was that faith that had swayed Kara, moved her to gamble with two precious lives, and after days of worrying, it had paid off, in more ways than she’d bargained for.

It was late morning when the hand in hers curled around her fingers, a strong squeeze as Lena’s body went taut with an indulgent stretch as she came to. Kara’s eyes lit up with eager expectation as she propped herself up more, looking at the softening muscles in Lena’s face as she woke. Eyes opening to narrow slits, Lena let out a wince of pain and went slack against the pillows she was propped up on, a hand moving to cover her eyes as she squeezed them shut again.

“Morning,” Kara murmured, giving Lena’s hand a gentle squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh, my head,” Lena groaned, massaging a temple as she scowled up at the exposed ceiling overhead.

Removing her hand from Lena’s grip, Kara slowly sat up and tried not to jostle the mattress as she climbed off the bed, offering up a quick excuse before she slipped from the room. Quietly making her way downstairs, Kara found Alex in the converted lab space, hair damp from a shower as she drank coffee and stared at the screen of the laptop Lena had given her to use.

“She’s awake.”

“How is she?”

“She woke during the night. She seemed fine. Normal. I let her go back to sleep again, so I guess we’ll find out now.”

Hurrying back upstairs with her sister in tow, they stepped back into the bedroom to the steady beeping of monitors that had kept Kara company for days, strong and comforting. Lena was still, an arm thrown across her eyes to block out the room, and she made an indignant sound of complaint at the back of her throat.

“Do you have to be so loud?” Lena grumbled, voice scratchy from disuse.

“Well, your charming personality is still intact,” Alex quipped.

A relieved smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she walked over to Lena, looming over her with an anxious edge to her scrutinising stare. Pressing a hand against her forehead, she made a faint sound of approval.

“Fever’s broken too. Heartrate is … strong. Blood pressure is stable. Baby’s is fine too. How’re you feeling?”

“Simultaneously hungover  _ and _ flattened by a truck.”

Sinking to a crouch beside the bed, Alex stared at her with open curiosity as Kara lingered in shadows of the room, eyes big and round with apprehension as she wrung the hem of her shirt in her hands. 

“Does it hurt?”

Lena let out a snort of laughter, mouth twisting in grim agreement, before she let her arm slip away from her eyes, screwed shut and giving her face an agonised look.

“Headache,” Lena spat out through clenched teeth, “it’s too bright. Too loud.”

“Kara, will you get the curtains?” Alex softly asked, keeping her voice down.

Hurrying to obey, Kara pulled the curtains shut across the open windows, watching them balloon inwards with the wind gusting in. The heavy velvet cloth stayed closed though, dimming the brightness on one side of the room as Kara darted around in a blur to repeat it on the other side. She heard Lena’s wispy sigh of relief and felt a twinge in her chest, moving back to her spot behind her sister, hovering uselessly.

“Can you open your eyes for me?” Alex murmured, voice gentle and coaxing like she was treating a small child.

Lids cracking open slightly, lashes fluttering, Lena sucked in a sharp breath and blinked slowly. With gentle fingers, Alex reached out and parted her eyelids further, exposing the whites of Lena’s eyes, faintly threaded with pink and red, but no longer shockingly crimson as they had been in the bath downstairs.

“Follow my finger.”

Moving quickly, Lena reached up and grabbed Alex’s arm as she started to move it back and forth, holding her still as she gave her an exasperated look through hooded eyelids.

“I’m not  _ concussed. _ I  _ can _ see.”

“I’m just  _ checking. _ Your eyes were red as anything the other day. It could’ve blinded you for all we know.”

A jolt of panic ran through Lena as she reached up to press her fingertips beneath an eye, “are they-”

“It’s mostly gone.”

“These sheets,” Lena said with a rough huff of discontent, feet scuffling against them as she squirmed, eyes closing once more as her brown puckered. “They’re itchy.”

“We’ll get you some new sheets later. You should eat something first. It’s been days since you’ve had anything solid.”

“I’ll go and make something,” Kara quietly offered, making a swift exit.

While Alex checked the rest of her vitals, being thorough and careful as she poked and prodded Lena, drawing blood and changing the near-empty bag of saline, dragging the ultrasound machine upstairs to take a look at the baby. She’d grown in size, distinctly human-looking now, instead of the alien swirls of months past, and Lena felt her heart soar in her chest as her stomach dropped.

Alex moved in with a cloth to wipe away the gel smeared across Lena’s bruised stomach, faded to old browns and yellows with few fresh greens and blues, and Lena reached out to still her with a hand. Looking up at Alex through narrowed eyelids, she gave her a sheepish smile and shrugged as she lay propped against the goose feather pillows.

“I- can we wait until Kara comes back? So she can see.”

“Oh,” Alex murmured, eyebrows quickly rising and falling. “Um, yeah, sure. Of course we can.”

Nodding in thanks, Lena leant her head back, staring up at the dark ceiling through the empty space where the canopy should’ve been. Her expression darkened as she breathed in the smell of the familiar room, furniture polish and the smell of rain and acrid bleach. It was one of the guest ones she’d used to play hide and seek in by herself, and by that, she meant she’d hide in the armoire or beneath the bed until one of the maids came and ousted her for private tutoring or dinner. There were many such rooms throughout the mansion that held similar memories for her.

It wasn’t long before Kara plodded her way back upstairs and entered the room with a silver tray held in her grasp, laden with food and tea. A smile flashed across her face before it vanished in lieu of a bewildered crinkle between her eyebrows. Slowly, she set the tray down and moved in closer.

“Lena thought you might want to see the ultrasound.”

“Oh, yes. I’d love to. Is she okay? Did it- did it work?”

Shoulders rising and falling in a quick shrug, Alex set the transducer wand back to Lena’s stomach, filling the room with the echoic heartbeat as the image appeared on the screen.

“The baby seems strong,” Alex recounted for her, “she’s grown a little, so that’s a good sign. Heartbeat is stronger than four days ago, but still just as fast. Given yours, I assumed it’s a hereditary predisposition from you, so nothing to worry about there. Obviously, a biopsy would reveal more, but seeing as the needle won’t even make it through the uterine wall, that’s out of the question. Everything else is as well as we can assume.”

“Hm. And what about Lena?”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Lena sighed, picking up the towel that Alex her set down on the bed and making quick work of wiping her bare stomach clean.

Folding the towel in half, she set it aside and shifted herself up into a sitting position, pillows piled up between her and the headboard. She grimaced and rolled her shoulders in an antsy manner.

“I just … I feel uncomfortable. I need to take a bath and get out of this itchy bed and then I’ll be great.”

“Breakfast first!” Kara softly exclaimed, an eager grin lighting up her face as she snatched up the tray and swiftly set it down in Lena’s lap. “Scrambled eggs with hot sauce. Pickles for your cravings. And tea.”

“Thank you,” Lean gratefully replied as she peered up at her, eyes creasing at the corners with a genuine smile.

Yet, she found her appetite soured by the vinegary smell of pickle brine wafting up from the plate held before her on the tray. Still, Lena made a show of picking up her fork and digging into the mountain of eggs, shovelling it into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Her chewing slowed at the gritty feeling of sand in her mouth, face twisting with revulsion as salt overpowered her senses.

Forcing herself to swallow, Lena choked as she tried to keep a cough at bay, patting her chest and running her tongue over her teeth. She could feel two pairs of eyes watching her and tried for an air of nonchalance as she reached for her tea. Taking a sip, the foul taste of dirt made her splutter around the rim of the china cup, tea spraying everywhere as she lowered it back down onto the tray with a heavy hand.

Pausing for a moment, Lena pressed her mouth into a flat line, feeling her stomach roil and her gorge rise as her senses were overwhelmed with too many different smells, tastes and touches. A headache pulsed behind her eyes, the sheets and pillows were rough against her bare skin, there were too many smells in the room and all Lena could hear was the infernal beeping of the machines like a constant nuisance keeping her company.

Softly clearing her throat, Lena tipped her face up at Kara, eyes closed, and gave her an apologetic smile. 

“Kara, would you mind fetching that vase across the room?”

Brow furrowing with confusion, Kara moved over to a white vase decorated with blue floral imagery, an old antique that had been situated on top of the dresser for as long as Lena could remember. Drawing close to the bed, Kara held it in her hands with a quizzical look on her face.

“Now what?”

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

Reaching out, Lena all but tore it from her grasp and managed to get it to her face just in time. There were winces all-around at the harsh, muffled sounds of Lena emptying what meagre contents her stomach held into the bowels of the antique vase.

Forehead pricked with a sheen of sweat, Lena finally straightened up and ran the back of a shaky hand across her mouth as she cradled the vase in the crook of her elbow.

“Well, I guess the morning sickness is back.”

Her wan smile did nothing to assuage the worry on the sister’s faces as they stared at her, and Kara silently reached out to remove the tray and the vase from Lena’s grasp as Alex leant in close and tilted her chin up.

“It could just be morning sickness,” Kara nervously commented, anxiously cracked her knuckles as she watched on.

“But it could be the blood,” Alex glumly admitted.

Fingers probing the underside of Lena’s jaw again, checking her glands, before she reached for Lena’s hands, checking her fingernails and then feeling her stomach. There was no unexpected hardness to her distended stomach, just the firm bump stretched tautly, and Alex sighed in deep thought.

“No physical changes I can see.  _ Could _ just be the morning sickness.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“You’re both panicking over nothing,” Lena sighed, “I’m  _ fine _ . Honestly. Let me get up.”

Helping Lena sit up, Alex gripped her arm and aided her to her feet and Lena kneaded the sore muscles of her back as she grumbled. Steady on her feet, Lena rolled her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. Kara unbuttoned her plaid shirt and shed it, handing it over to Lena to slip on over the cycling shorts and sports bra, leaving the other woman wearing a fitted t-shirt. As she put on the soft cotton shirt, worn and thin against her sensitive skin, Lena paused for a moment as she felt the fibres. She almost felt like she could feel each fibre.

Detached from the monitors, the absence of the shrill beeping left her feeling somewhat disoriented as if she’d lost her hearing, with only her own heart beating loudly in her chest. And then, another heartbeat, slightly out of sync with its rapid pace. And two more, with loud breaths that grated on Lena’s nerves. It all felt  _ too _ loud.

Closing her eyes, she shook her head, trying to rid herself of the disorienting feeling, like everything was pressing in on her. She could taste the sour bile coating her tongue and caught at the back of her throat, smell the offensive odour of her vomit in the vase that Kara had set back down on top of the dresser, and when she opened her eyes, Lena’s vision sharpened.

With clarity and understanding, she felt faint and sank quickly back down onto the mattress, squeezing her eyes shut once more, blocking out the distinct details of the room as the edges of her vision blurred with encroaching darkness at the stab of pain behind her eyes. Even in the gloom, it was still achingly bright, and Lena could see details she shouldn’t have been able to with crisp precision. 

Eyelashes fluttering again, she opened her eyes to a mere slit once more, a manageable sliver of the room visible and indistinct, and slowly let her eyes open more and more, taking in the growing clarity of her vision as everything came into keen focus. She felt like she was viewing the world through a magnifying glass, everything thrown into enhanced emphasis, from the whorls in the wooden panelling of the wall, to the flecks in Kara’s anxious eyes as Lena met her eyes.

“I think- it’s not morning sickness,” Lena said as she dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to block out the startling detail as it engulfed her. “It’s the blood.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Kara asked, a mere blur as she dashed down to her knees before Lena, reaching up to cup her chin and tilt her head side to side as she gave her a searching look. “You look a bit pale. She looks pale, doesn’t she?”

She directed the question towards Alex, who crowded in close. The sound of their heartbeats was a loud drumbeat pounding in Lena’s head, and she gently leant back, pulling her chin out of Kara’s grasp as she reached out to take her hand, giving it a reassuring pat.

“I’m fine, I just- I think my … senses are … like yours.”

Eyes widening, Kara’s lips parted in surprise. “Oh! Oh,  _ now _ I get it! It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?”

With a strained laugh, Lena pinched the bridge of her nose and dipped her head in a nod. “Just a little.”

“I remember when I first landed on Earth. Within a couple of days, I was bedridden with headaches from the loud noises and the brightness of it all. I couldn’t eat anything except bread for two weeks. Everything else just tasted awful.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” Lena glumly agreed.

Quietly chuckling, Kara caressed Lena’s shoulder and pushed herself to her feet, turning to her sister. “She just needs some time to adjust. It looks like my blood’s imparted some hypersensitivity to her. Strange. Oh, do you think you’ll be able to  _ fly? _ No, that’s ridiculous, you don’t have the physiology for it. Probably not the lasers or freeze breath either. Would the blood have made you stronger maybe? Here, squeeze my hand.”

“Let her  _ breathe _ ,” Alex laughed, nudging her sister with a knowing smile on her face.

Kara’s excitement was infectious and Lena couldn’t help but smile, despite her discomfort, shoulders sagging with fatigue as she rubbed at her sore eyes. They felt dry and heavy, and she couldn’t get the bitter taste out of her mouth.

“I’ll get you some toast. Do you think avocado will be okay? You know what, I’ll just make both,” Kara babbled.

Lena opened her eyes to slits to watch her leave with fond amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, hair in disarray and her other hand cupping her stomach. The door gently clicked shut behind Kara and Lena was left looking at the pattern of the grain.

Her head jerked up at the snort of laughter that came from Alex, and Lena’s expression darkened into a scowl as she narrowed her eyes once more, hiding the accusation in them. Still, she caught a flash of Alex’s sly smile and bristled slightly.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just not very good at hiding your feelings. It’s written on your face almost as easily as it’s written on hers.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lena replied, her voice frosty as a blush crept into her cheeks.

“Mhm. Well, think about it. Might help.”

Lena pressed her lips together, head bowed as she stewed in her feelings. Alex silently moved around the room, packing up equipment and casting furtive glances at Lena, who had the distinct feeling of being watched. 

After a few minutes, Lena pushed herself to her feet and hefted a medical bag onto her shoulder, waving away Alex’s concerns, and swiftly walked towards the door, jerking it open and descending down the grand staircase.

Kara was still bustling about in the kitchen, whistling tunelessly, soft and comforting, and Lena deposited the medical bag in the lab before following the melody down the hallway. All the curtains had been shut, plunging the cavernous room into a darkness that was easier on Lena’s eyes. She hovered in the doorway, sure that Kara knew she was there, and listened to her whistle as she took in the tightness of the short sleeves around her biceps as she smeared avocado over wholewheat bread.

“You should sit,” Kara said, pausing her tune to cast Lena a quick glance, “your body’s running on fumes. We need to get some calories in you.”

Snorting, Lena wandered over to a kitchen stool and pulled herself up onto it, elbows on the marble countertop as she leant forward. A plate of avocado toast and a glass of filtered water was set down before her, and Kara leant towards her as she rested against the other side of the counter, an expectant look on her face.

Picking up a slice of toast, Lena took a tentative bite, the avocado bland and the bread light, and chewed thoughtfully, waiting for her senses to reject it. The mildness of the flavour was gentle on her tastebuds and she wolfed down the first piece and gave Kara an eager not of approval.

“This is fine. Thank you.”

Limp with relief, Kara smiled widely, dishtowel slung over one shoulder and nodded towards the rest of it. “Eat it all while I run you a bath.”

Lena was already on her second slice, crumbs cascading down to her lap as she watched Kara leave. “Thank you!” she called after her, muffled by a mouthful of food.

A smile touched her lips as Kara waved a hand in dismissive acknowledgement before she turned into the bathroom. The sound of water pounding into the tub reached Lena’s ears a moment later, thunderously loud as it drilled into her head, and she grumbled internally as she ate her food. 

Her stomach ached from a lack of solids over the past few days, and Lena quickly demolished what was on her plate, until she felt sick with how full she was. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she felt the feeble kicks of the baby, somewhat subdued as if content with Lena’s full stomach and the Kryptonian DNA coursing through her blood, providing proper nourishment. Breathing out a shaky breath of relief, Lena sipped her glass of water as she trailed her fingertips over the bump, gladdened by the fact that it seemed to have worked. She could manage hypersensitivity if it meant that her baby would be healthy by the end of it. She would risk it all to ensure it.

She stayed in the kitchen for a few minutes, listening to the sound of running water as the food settled, before heaving herself off the stool. Feeling heavy and sluggish with the added weight of the baby’s density, Lena moved towards the bathroom and poked her head in, watching as Kara set a towel on a small stool beside the tub, within easy reach for Lena. 

The air was chilly and Lena’s warm skin prickled at the thought of the tepid bath awaiting her. She missed hot baths, basking in the steam that rose from the surface as it unknotted her sore muscles from a day of poring over microscopes and computers, but she felt sticky and unclean from days sweating in the upstairs bedroom, and would’ve settled for another ice bath if necessary.

It was barely filled halfway when Kara shut the water off and glanced over her shoulder, giving Lena a faint smile. “It’s a bit cold, sorry.”

Shaking her head, Lena’s lips pulled into a thin smile as she shed the plaid shirt pulled on over the gym wear. “It’s great, thank you. Here.”

Moving in close, Lena held the shirt out and Kara straightened up, shaking her wet hand before reaching out to take it. They both held onto it for a moment, staring at each other, before Lena forced herself to unclench her hand. Ducking her head down, she nodded.

“Great, well … I’ll just leave you to it,” Kara murmured. 

Nodding again, Lena listened to her leave and glanced back over her shoulder just as the door was closing. Her shoulders slumped as hidden tension bled out of her and with a faint sigh, Lena stripped off the shorts and sports bra, tossing them into the laundry basket.

Stepping up to the bath, Lena didn’t see the drops of water flung from Kara’s fingers, making the tiles slick, and so, as she put her foot right into the water, still moving forward, she skidded along the wet floor, both knees slamming into the edge of the bath as her arms windmilled and she fell backwards. A sound of alarm escaped her as she realised she was going to slam back onto the tiled floor, rebounding off the edge of the tub, and her eyes widened as she braced herself for the quick impact.

Except it never came.

Stiffening at the burning touch of arms around her naked body, Lena felt a hot flush sweep through her and shot upright in Kara’s embrace, twisting as she stared up at her in horror. Spluttering, Lena clutched onto Kara’s arms for a moment as realisation dawned on her, and took in the sheepish look of innocence on Kara’s face as her eyes drilled into her. 

Mouth falling open in protest, Lena barely managed an indignant squawk before she quickly turned around and picked up the towel set beside the bath, wrapping it around herself. It had all taken a mere handful of seconds, Kara’s inhuman speed propelling her through the door with a loud bang the moment she’d heard Lena’s cry.

“Are you alright?” Kara asked, anxious and panicked.

A bubble of laughter was expelled from the back of Lena’s throat as she felt her face redden even more, cheeks flaming as she jerked her chin up. “I’m fine.”

“Do you want me to help you-”

“I’m fine,” Lena cut her off, a little sharper than intended as she floundered, the towel hugged to her body as she stared at the floor.

“But-”

“Kara,” Lena replied in a cool, level voice, “get out.”

Inhaling as she started to protest, Kara’s mouth clamped shut and she firmly nodded, before making a quick exit. Mortification washed over Lena as she let the towel pool to the floor and climbed into the tub, quickly slipping beneath the cool water as she let it consume her. She wouldn’t have been opposed to drowning at that moment, but the thought of Kara bursting in again brought her to resurface a few moments later, the cold stealing the pink from her cheeks.

Outside, Kara briskly walked away from the bathroom, pink-cheeked and flustered, and stepped into the lab, where Alex was packing away some of her belongings strewn around the room from her brief stay.

“You okay?” she asked, casting Kara a quick glance and taking in the rosiness to her cheeks and the wide-eyed look of alarm.

“Oh, I, uh, yeah, she- Lena was just- she slipped.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, I just- she was …  _ getting in the bath,” _ Kara said, her voice dropping to a scandalised whisper at the end, growing even more flustered.

With a snort of laughter, Alex raised her eyebrows, “I didn’t that’d have you blushing like a schoolgirl.”

Spluttering with indignation, Kara folded her arms over her chest and jutted her chin forward as she frowned. “It’s not- I just- she doesn’t even want to be around me right now, so it’s just a little awkward is all. I mean … we only kissed the one time before everything went to shit. It feels … I don’t know, like walking in on her in the bathroom is  _ wrong _ . But, obviously, with the baby, I couldn’t just let her  _ hurt _ herself.”

“God, you’re both so dense. Of  _ course _ she wants to be around you! Do you think anyone can tell Lena what to do if she doesn’t want to do it? I mean, yeah, maybe you could, but not if it’s she  _ actually _ hated you. She’s just … well … pregnant. I know she’s stubborn and sensitive normally, but  _ god _ , hormones have really made it almost insufferable, because she’s being so stubborn that she won’t admit that she wants to be with you.”

“I don’t think she does,” Kara whispered, face spasming with pain.

“Did she tell you that herself?”

Kara shrugged, a glum look on her face, “not in so many words. It was … implied, I guess.”

“Kara, do you, me  _ and _ Lena a favour and just ask her,” Alex exasperatedly sighed.

A perturbed look on her face, Kara sank down onto a stool and rubbed at her tired eyes, feeling strung-out and tired. There was a despondent hunch to her shoulders as she lightly drew patterns on the cool metal workbench with a fingertip.

“I don’t know, Alex,” Kara warily murmured, “I don’t want to burden her with  _ my _ feelings, you know?”

Sighing, Alex zipped up her back and rounded on Kara with faintly amused bewilderment on her face as she shook her head. “Kara, you’re both going to burdened with a  _ child _ in a few months. You’re aware of that right? There isn’t going to be a world where you’re not together in some capacity, even if it’s only for the benefit of your daughter. What are you even going to do when she’s born? Are you moving in? I know you, and I know there’s not going to be a day that passes where you’re not going to want to see your daughter. And you  _ love _ her, so why does it have to be so complicated?”

“You said it yourself! Every time we disagree on something, she takes it as another way to dislike me! It’s like things are fine for a week or a month and then I do or say something that makes me have to go through all that effort all over again just to get back to where we were.”

“Well tough! She’s a big girl; tell her to get over it.”

With a scoff of laughter, Kara gave Alex a grim look, “we both know how well _that_ would go over.”

“You risked your daughter’s life. You risked both of their lives based on nothing but trust and a  _ sliver _ of hope that Lena was right. But you trusted her, and if that’s not enough to warrant her at least giving you another chance, then … I don’t know. Maybe it’s not about Supergirl. But I know one thing; if you love someone, you tell them. I know you’re scared that it’s bad timing and it’ll cause problems, that it’ll make everything worse, but you  _ have _ to say it, Kara. You can’t spend your life beating yourself up over one silly little mistake.”

With a heavy sigh and a heavier heart, Kara nodded, giving her sister a wan smile. “You’re right.”

Setting a hand on Kara’s shoulder, Alex looked at her for a moment, affection warming her brown eyes, and gave her a stern look. “Talk to her. And call me if you need anything. I’ll stop by on my next day off.”

“Thanks for all your help,” Kara replied, her words coloured with gratitude as she gave Alex an earnest look.

Waving aside her thanks, Alex kissed the top of her head and gave her shoulder one more squeeze in parting. “Don’t mention it. Now, I’ve got to run; I promised Kelly that I’d be there for dinner at hers tonight.”

“Have fun.”

“Be good.”

She listened to Alex leave, the sound of her motorbike roaring to life before she tore off down the long stretch of gravelled driveway, before climbing to her feet. With one ear tuned in to the sound of lapping water as Lena bathed, Kara tidied up in the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher and cleaning up the clutter of parenting books she’d been reading, clothes and cups and medical equipment scattered throughout the rooms commandeered for their use.

It was relaxing, the methodical work of tidying up, and she was busy putting the freshly cleaned vase back in the upstairs bedroom, bed already made and windows shut again, when she heard Lena’s footsteps on the stairs. Setting the vase down, Kara turned with a warm smile on her face as Lena stepped into the open doorway.

“Hi, how do you feel?” Kara softly asked.

Wariness flickering in the depths of her eyes, Lena’s mouth twitched with a ghost of a smile, brushing damp hair out of her face. She’d donned a thin silk robe and looked fresh-faced and healthier than she’d looked in weeks. The delicate bones of her face seemed less sharp, the circles beneath her eyes a pale lavender, and her shoulders were less stooped with exhaustion.

“More human.”

A weak chuckle burst out of Kara’s mouth and she looked at the vase, turning it slightly and centring it on top of the dresser before she turned back to Lena. Her footsteps were slow and light as she drifted towards the door, stepping out into the hallway as Lena backed away.

They were cautious, dancing around each other for the rest of the day and the following week. It was like a slow game of chess, both of them waiting for the other one to call checkmate and relieve the heavy anticipation that hung between them with all that remained unsaid. Each time Kara plucked up the courage to talk to Lena, she quickly found another reason not to, as everything seemed to settle into place, into a nice routine that she was hesitant to disrupt.

The blood lingered in Lena’s system in the following weeks, and she came alive again, a healthy glow to her skin and a brightness to her eyes. The food she ate was no longer entirely consumed by the baby, and she no longer looked gaunt with hunger, starved and sick. She adjusted to her heightened senses and even found it useful, listening to the baby’s heartbeat to calm her in the quiet evenings as Kara spoke in quiet Kryptonian to her stomach, her touch gentle and intimate in a way that left Lena craving more.

Weeks passed by undisturbed, a quiet life for them both, reminiscent of what Kara had dreamt for them, and it was almost easy to delude themselves into thinking that it  _ was _ that happy little life. If it wasn’t for the lingering tension and unspoken feelings blanketing them both whenever they interacted, it would’ve been easy. So easy that Lena realised she didn’t want the fragile peace to end.

She was well into her ninth month, with no sign of slowing as her stomach ballooned outwards, when Kara finally plucked up the courage to talk to her. In an uncharacteristic show of curiosity, Lena was making her way upstairs, seeking out Kara after a bath when the Kryptonian slipped out of the room that they’d holed Lena up in after the transfusion.

“What’re you doing up here?” Lena asked.

“Oh, just … tidying up. I wanted to cover the furniture up so it’s safe from the dust; I know you don’t like being up here. I should probably apologise for that, actually. About the other week. We just- you needed proper rest and the camp bed …”

A strained smile tugged at Lena’s lips, a flash of some unreadable, dark emotion in her eyes as she brushed Kara’s concerns aside. “You don’t need to apologise. Honestly, I don’t like being _anywhere_ in this house at all.”

A brooding darkness clouded her expression as she reached out to place a pale hand against the dark mahogany panelling of the wall, eyebrows drawn low over troubled eyes and a hard face.

“It’s not haunted,” Lena said with a tense laugh, “but it feels evil to me. Being here makes me feel like I’m going to end up mad, like the rest of my family. Just being within these walls makes me think about how they all slowly grew twisted. But it was the only place I thought to hide where you wouldn’t find me the second you looked.”

Her eyes slid sideways to Kara, a spark of amusement in them, before her hand dropped and her expression softened with congenial warmth. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something if you have a minute,” Kara hesitantly said after a brief lull, expression clouded and solemn as she shut the door behind her. 

“It’s not like I have anywhere to go,” Lena snorted.

Kara ducked her head in agreement and Lena softly sighed, rolling her eyes and tugging on Kara’s arm, pulling her into motion. Looping her arm fully through the crook of Kara’s elbow, Lena set them off at a slow pace down the carpeted hallway of the second floor, passing closed door after closed door as old paintings watched their passing. Her skin prickled with the uneasy sensation of being watched and Lena’s mouth went dry.

“Out with it then. What’s eating you up?”

“It’s not-” Kara started before she trailed off into a sharp sigh.

Reaching up, she rubbed at her forehead with her free hand, frustration eating away at her, and Lena looked up at her with mild interest, patient as they ambled along arm in arm. She was content to let Kara mull it over and choose her words carefully, stretching her legs for the first time in days as they followed the west wing of the house to the end and started back the other way.

“Look, I don’t know any other way to say it,” Kara blurted out, pulling Lena to a stop just past the grand staircase, on the cusp of the east wing. 

Buzzing with nervous energy, she released Lena’s arm and fiddled nervously with her fingers as she looked down at the thick carpet underfoot. It was dusty and worn in places. Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, Kara met Lena’s eyes and squared her shoulders.

“I took a  _ huge _ gamble with our daughter’s life. I made that decision for  _ you _ . We made it together, but I still took that risk because I trust  _ you. _ And I think- I think that … that should earn me at least a little bit of leniency. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, I’m not asking for us to put it in the past, or dismissing your feelings about what happened. But … I  _ trusted _ you with our daughter’s life and it paid off, but it might not have. It could’ve been a disaster. So … that’s it. I’ve proven that I trust you in the best way that I could, with the most important thing to me, and now I’m asking you to try and trust me again. Just  _ try _ . Because in a few months … we’re going to be a family, whether we like it or not, and I’d at least like you to like me by then.”

“You’ve always  _ been _ my family, Kara,” Lena said, firm and unreadable as she stood across from her. “That was never in doubt. And I’ve been trying; I’m trying as hard as I can, for her. For me too.”

“I know,” Kara breathlessly replied, “but it’s like … you’re searching for any reason to doubt me. Anything at all to give you another reason to drive a wedge between us. I made a lot of mistakes and I’m so sorry, but I feel so lonely when you’re not near me. It hurts to remember what we had when I look at where we are now because … you used to feel like a home to me. A place that grounded me, where I could go to take off the day, to take off  the cape . Take off _Supergirl._ And I just ... I want that place back, because I can’t think of anything that makes me happier than being with you all the time, and it hurts- it hurts when you give me the cold shoulder when I’m trying to earn your trust back. How am I supposed to do that when you’re determined to keep me away?”

Her breathing was ragged, her heart torn with a dull ache as she looked at Lena with such longing that she almost couldn’t stand it. And yet, Kara couldn’t bring herself to say that she loved Lena. She’d almost said it months ago in the Fortress of Solitude, cut off by Lena’s anger, and she hadn’t felt like it was the right moment to say it since, in all their conversations. And now, she was afraid that Lena would rebuff her advances, reject her once more in her own self-preservation, but Kara felt it so keenly in every piece of her as she stared at Lena and waited for her to say something.

“I know,” Lena eventually said, so quiet that she was barely audible, even to Kara’s sensitive ears. “There’s no victory in being the cold one, and I’m trying to come to terms with that. I just- I can’t help loving you more than is good for me, and it’s not that I think that you don’t-”

Drawing in a shuddering breath, Lena’s lips trembled as she swallowed thickly, staring down at the floor. “I’m a coward. I’m not brave enough to look someone I love in the eye and tell them how I feel. I don’t know how to make you understand how it feels with words. How to understand why I am ... the way I am. I know I'm irrational and- and I have these walls ... I don't know how to explain why I care about you more than anyone else in the world, but the sight of you makes me want to cry sometimes. I-”

Swallowing thickly, Lena paused, mouth a flat line as she bowed her head, shoulders taut. 

“I trust you,” she finally said. “I _do_ trust you, but I’m just ... scared of myself. I’m scared of what it’ll do to me if  _ I’m _ wrong for that so I’m … testing the waters. I’m sorry if it feels like I’m being too harsh at times, but I just want to make sure- I don’t want to be hurt again. But I wouldn’t be here with you, carrying our child that we’ll raise together, if I didn’t trust you.  _ Surely _ you know enough about me to know that.”

Wordlessly shrugged, Kara spread her arms in a helpless gesture, a forlorn look of confusion on her face as Lena looked up into her wide, gentle blue eyes. “I don’t know. I never know where we stand anymore.”

“Together,” Lena adamantly replied, “the rest will follow. That was the deal.”

There was a petulant look of stubbornness on Lena’s face as she jerked her chin up, looking at Kara with hard green eyes. Kara couldn’t help but laugh, a tender softness to her features as she tilted her head to the side and smiled, shoulders limp as gentle affection tugged at her heartstrings.

“Oh,  _ Lena-” _

Before she could even say anything else, Lena had thrown herself at Kara, wrapping her in a fierce hug that caught her completely off-guard, the bump standing between them. Freezing for a moment, Kara’s arms slowly wound themselves around Lena’s thin frame as some knot inside her unwound. With a smile on her face, Kara pressed her face into Lena’s shoulder as she did the same to Kara’s, and they both stood there for a moment in each other’s embrace, relishing the feeling of being held.

Slowly, Lena eventually pulled back, looking up at Kara with sheepish reservation as she tucked a lock of damp hair behind her ear. Kara’s hands were on her waist over the silky fabric of her robe, and Lena could feel the burning heat of her fingertips through it as the baby kicked up a storm and Lena’s heart embarrassingly stuttered in her chest for all to hear.

“I’m trying, really,” Lena said, a faint smile reaching her eyes, “I’m almost there.”

“There’s no rush,” Kara quickly assured her, joy soaring in her heart, “I just- I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. For all of our sakes. Because … sometimes it feels like we’re not and I don’t know how to talk to you without feeling guilty.”

“Well, like you said, you trusted me to gamble with our daughter’s life, so … I think that warrants some forgiveness,” Lena said with a wry, teasing smile.

She turned solemn then, smile vanishing as her brow creased slightly, eyes brooding and grave. Taking Kara’s hand in her own, Lena gave it a slight squeeze, “thank you, Kara. Thank you for trusting me, it- it means a lot. I know it was a risk. And I don’t spook  _ that _ easily, you know. After last night I think we can at least agree that we can be honest with each other. About everything. So, if you have anything to say ...”

There was a spark of hope in her eyes and a gentle coaxing to her words that went over Kara’s head as she smiled down at Lena, bright with happiness as she squeezed her cold hand in return.

“Great,” Kara said, sighing with contentedness, “that’s … a weight off my shoulders. I think- well, if we can be friends, I would like that.”

Disappointment flooded Lena, bursting her hopes and twisting the knife in her chest just a little bit more. A wavering smile that didn’t reach her eyes crossed her face as she avoided Kara’s gaze and she nodded with fake enthusiasm, a lump caught in her throat that made it hard to breathe.

“Friends. Sure.”


	9. Chapter 9

Friendship suited them just fine. Or so they pretended for a while anyway. The air cleared between them, united on a common purpose without the oppressive guilt and betrayal hanging dangerously over them like a constant presence, things seemed easier, the strain in their relationship smoothing out into something akin to the early affability of their friendship.

And yet, they both craved more. Unspoken and unwilling  _ to _ be spoken, neither of them tempted the fate of their newfound friendship, yet it was obvious in the fleeting glances and gentle, lingering touches that they both wanted more. Obvious, that is to themselves, but never of each other.

In the long evenings as Lena flipped through baby books while Kara kneaded the sore muscles of Lena’s back, or in the lazy mornings where Lena was greeted with scrambled eggs and waffles, her face lighting up with grateful delight, or yet even in their daily walks in the garden as winter crept in and withered the plants and lent a chill to the air, allowing Lena to walk off her burning fever, hand-in-hand with Kara as her stomach grew and grew and her steps became mere waddles, they never guessed at each other’s thoughts, keeping them secret and close as they lived in a fantasy, never even realising how close the reality was, just out of grasp of their fingertips. All it would’ve taken was one leap of faith, a moment of courage to confess the truth, and still, they both hesitated. 

As Lena grew rounder and fuller, healthy and stronger than she’d ever been as Kara’s blood in her system lingered and waned, and the months left until the predicted due date dwindled down to weeks, their future together remained uncertain. All that was certain was their child. A child to bind them in some way, even if nothing more came of it. And yet, they still hedged around the topic of what came after.

Perhaps it was foolish to look no further than the due date, to have no plans of custody or of where they’d reside - whether Kara’s loft was suitable or if Lena planned to return to her penthouse - no discussions of names or baby supplies littering the mansion, but Lena was scared to speak of it, as if it would break the fragile dream she’d given herself over to. And Kara was seemingly all too willing to comply, never broaching the topic as she moved around Lena like an attentive roommate, always at her side before she even knew there was something she needed or something to say.

It was on a cold December day, on the cusp of dusk creeping in, blurring the edges and lengthening the shadows on the shortest day of the year when they decided to take a turn around the sprawling garden for some air. Being cooped up in  _ that _ house had long since started making Lena restless and irritable, and the cool air was a soothing balm against her flushed skin. With nothing more than a thin shirt and shorts, she walked arm-in-arm with Kara, trampling leaves and drying grass underfoot as they passed by wilting flower beds clinging to the mild Californian winter.

“It’s strange,” Lena mused, “I’ve never spent a winter at this house before. We always used to spend Christmas in Switzerland or Colorado or Canada skiing. It was always snowing.”

“I didn’t know you could ski,” Kara said with thinly veiled amusement. 

Bristling slightly, Lena cast her a haughty sideways look, mouth tugging slightly at the corners, “I was very good at it, actually.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Kara placatingly replied, looking down at her with a tender look on her face. “Do you miss the snow?”

“Yes. Especially this close to Christmas. Today’s actually the winter solstice. The shortest day of the year,” Lena murmured, shading her eyes against the weak sunlight as she stared up at the grey sky, steadily darkening despite the fact that it was still early in the afternoon. “You know, the Pagans used to celebrate it for the moon goddess. It was all about the rebirth of the sun. It had powerful energy for regeneration, for renewal and self-reflection.”

Cocking her head to the side, Kara hummed with amused thoughtfulness, eyes crinkling at the corners as her mouth curved into a delicate smile. “Strange, isn’t it, that even in a different galaxy different civilisations turned to the same things for worship. It makes me think that we’re not so different. Fundamentally. We all want the chance for renewal, to self-reflect on our mistakes and turn over a new leaf.”

Making a disconcerting sound at the back of her throat, Lena pursed her lips in a petulant look, expression souring as she brooded. “If only it was as simple as having a short day to tell us to do all of that instead of having to actually work through self-reflection and our mistakes.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you so much? You’ve been quieter than usual - and more cynical,” Kara lightly prodded, a faint look of patient amusement on her face, even as her eyes flickered with buried concern.

Sighing heavily, Lena quietly groaned as she ran a hand over her face, “it’s nothing, I just- it’s all becoming very … real. I know that sounds stupid, because of  _ course _ I was going to end up with a baby at the end of it all, but I … well, two months just seems like so little time to prepare for motherhood. I know it’s funny to say that, considering the fact that in normal human terms I’m well overdue, but even a year doesn’t seem like enough time to get used to the idea. And my back’s killing me too. I never thought I’d envy a pregnant human, but lugging around a twenty-pound baby for a year definitely has its disadvantages.”

“Just think, if it was a full-term Kryptonian pregnancy,” Kara chuckled, “you’d be stuck with eighteen months of it.”

“No wonder they decided to start growing them,” Lena grumbled.

They stepped beneath the reaching branches of a gnarled oak and Kara relinquished her hold on Lena’s arm, standing in the cold shade beside the trunk as Kara gave Lena a flash of a smile.

“Here.”

Her voice was low and gentle and she stepped behind Lena with apprehension, reaching out to hold onto her waist. Through the thin shirt Lena was wearing, Kara started to knead the muscles of her lower back, her touch light and soothing, running over the sore muscles either side of Lena’s ridged spine.

“Is that better?” Kara asked, her breath hot on the back of Lena’s neck.

Mouth dry and eyelashes fluttering as her eyes slide closed, revelling in the touch of Kara’s massaging hands, Lena made a vague sound of approval, her shoulders stooped with relief as Kara worked the kinks out of her muscles.

“And what else is bothering you?” Kara asked, her voice soft and coaxing.

“What?” Lena bluntly asked, eyes snapping open as she turned her head to the side, glancing sideways over her shoulder.

Kara let out a quiet chuckle, her hands working their way up Lena’s back, splayed across the delicate bones of her ribcage as she massaged beneath her shoulder blades.

“I can practically hear you thinking too hard.”

With an airy laugh, Lena brushed Kara’s concerns aside, a wan smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she stared at the trunk of the oak tree, reaching out to press her hand against it, bracing herself. 

“I guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

“What is it?”

Cheeks warming, Lena quietly snorted, “it’s silly.”

“Not to  _ me.” _

“I just … I can’t help but think about what it’s going to be like. In the beginning, I was determined to think of it as a science experiment. The next big breakthrough in a breed of demigods that could be the perfect army, or cure any illness with their superior stem cells and DNA. And I told myself that was why I kept her, but I just- I lied to myself. Because I kept her so that someone would love me. Unconditionally. I was in … a bad place then, and it’s better now, and it’s taken a while for me to get here, but there’s a part of me that’s just … so afraid that I’m not cut out to be a mom. That even her, the person I made, that I carried for twelve months, will grow to hate me. Leave me. Break me.”

Lena brooded with a dark look clouding her face as she picked at the bark on the tree, hand shaking and throat dry as her chest constricted, making it hard to breathe. She swallowed thickly, painfully, and drew in a shuddering breath, feeling the heavy pressure in her chest that spoke of grief and heartache.

“And she’s not going to have anyone. It’s been over ten months and my mom doesn’t even know I’m pregnant. And I just … I wish it could’ve been different, you know? I wish I could’ve had a nice, big family. I wish she could’ve had a big family to love her. But I can’t give her that and it makes me scared that there’s going to be other things I won’t be able to give her and-”

Breaking off as her voice cracked, Lena scrubbed a hand over her face, blinking rapidly to dissuade the prickling pressure building up behind her eyes. Her shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug that wasn’t quite as flippant as Lena had hoped.

Picking at the mossy bark, Lena stewed in her thoughts, chewing on the inside of her lip as she hunched her shoulders against Kara’s piercing stare drilling into the back of her head. When it became apparent that she wasn’t going to finish her train of thought, Kara’s fingers settled on Lena’s shoulders, warm and reassuring and heavy, grounding her with reassurance. Slumping beneath her touch, the breath in Lena’s lungs was expelled in one short rush as her insides knotted and twisted further into doubtful confusion.

Hands gently squeezing Lena’s shoulders, Kara rested her forehead against the back of Lena’s head, making her heart leap and stomach drop with nervous butterflies. Lena had the fleeting wish that Kara might envelop her in her arms, hold her close and flood her body with warmth, and her body involuntarily tensed with the thought of it, only to relax as Kara’s hands slipped from her shoulders.

“Let’s go back inside,” Kara murmured, “there’s something I want you to see.”

Exhaling slowly, Lena rubbed at her eyes, gritty and slightly red, and turned with her head bowed. Dried grass crunched beneath her feet as she dragged her feet, a defeated slump to her shoulders. At the warm hand that wrapped around hers, Lena looked up, eyes wide and questioning, meeting Kara’s kind eyes and finding comfort there.

A slight smile tugged at her mouth as she squeezed Kara’s hand in hers, reassuring her as much as she drew reassurance from the small gesture. Lena clung to her hand like a lifeline as they walked across the leaf-strewn garden, all the way back to the French doors to the kitchen, standing open waiting for them. 

She tried to drop it when they stepped inside, but Kara held on tighter, urging her along at a slow and coaxing pace that Lena could manage with the heavy weight dragging her down. Waddling alongside her, Lena wasn’t sure what she expected, but her brow creased with confusion as Kara tugged her into the cold foyer with the surgical set-up and steered towards the sweeping staircase.

At the apprehensive look on Lena’s face, Kara smoothed circles onto the back of Lena’s hand with her thumb and gave her a gentle tug. Reluctantly allowing herself to be led towards the stairs, Lena mounted them with the slow wariness of someone in a haunted house, her skin prickling with unease as her feet soundlessly made their way up the stairs, one at a time.

On the landing, Kara towed her down the west wing, past the closed door to the room that Lena had lain in for days while she recovered from the blood transfusion, until they came to a stop before another identical door, closed to the room beyond. Lena’s stomach dropped as fear knifed through her, and she tried to snatch her hand back, mouth dry as dread pooled in her stomach.

“Kara-”

As her fingers slid from Kara’s searing grip, sweaty and shaking, Lena was too slow to stop the oblivious Kryptonian from reaching for the doorknob and twisting it, pushing the door inwards on oddly silent hinges as she gave Lena a crooked smile over her shoulder.

“Sorry for bringing you back up here, it’s just- well, you’ll see,” Kara apologetically explained, wincing slightly as she opened the door all the way and stepped inside.

Instead of the dry, close air of a musty room, Lena found her nose assaulted by the smell of furniture polish and citrus cleaning detergent, the wood in the room scrubbed to a rich glow and free from the dust that permeated the rest of the unused rooms. And as she took in the initial shock of the clean room, she found her mind reeling further as she took in the unfamiliar furniture scattered throughout the place.

Sheets were still draped over some of the furniture like ghostly imitations, and the bed’s hangings had been taken down, the green bedding stripped away and a sheet covering the mattress. Things had been moved out of the room, like the desk scored with gouged lines from a compass and the emerald velvet armchair with the shell back and the indented cushion from hours spent curled up on it. 

But it wasn’t the lack of familiarity that made Lena pause in the doorway, pale and hesitant, it was the addition of things she’d never seen before. The crib set against the wall where the desk had stood. The changing mat on top of the dresser and the worn rocking chair made from honeyed wood. A stroller was folded down in the corner and a wicker bassinet stood on a stand, a small planetary mobile dangling over it. Bags and boxes were stacked and cluttered the free space, baby brand names scrawled on the sides of them as Lena took it all in with unabashed shock.

“I hope you don’t mind. I picked this room because it was the furthest from the room you’re sleeping in downstairs and I didn’t want to disturb you when I was doing all of this.”

“You’ve been …  _ nesting,” _ Lena said with stunned accusation, looking almost horrified at the thought as she turned her round eyes to Kara.

Cheeks pink, Kara rubbed at the back of her neck as she let out a shaky laugh, “yeah, I guess so. I hope that’s okay. I know we haven’t got to talk about … what comes after, but I thought that we should at least have some things ready and I didn’t want to bother you. I know how you feel about the whole mom thing anyway and I know it’s been stressful so I thought that I could just … take some things off your plate while I was around.”

Tears flooded Lena’s eyes as she found her throat closed up, a sharp pain in her chest as she battled to suppress a sob. Her voice was thick with emotions when she replied. “Thank you.”

A smile lit up Kara’s face and she eagerly stepped towards Lena and grabbed her by the arm, excitement sparkling in her eyes as she ushered her inside. “Come and take a look at everything. I want to show you some things.”

Stoic and compliant, Lena let herself be steered over to the rocking chair and lowered down onto the worn wooden seat. Kara’s fingers were gentle and warm against her biceps as she helped her down, taking all of Lena’s weight.

“This chair is off Eliza. It’s the same chair that she nursed Alex in, given to her by her mother, so she’s been waiting to give it to me or Alex, depending on who had a child first. Fingers crossed Alex will get to use it soon too. Hey, imagine a little cousin!” Kara babbled, animated and gushing. “I’ve got a cushion to make it more comfortable for you, but it’s still in the bag. I didn’t want to leave it out to gather dust. What do you think? She’ll like it right? It’ll be soothing, don’t you think?”

Kara prodded it into motion as Lena sat in it, stomach lurching as the seat started swaying back and forth, wood grinding against wood. She cradled her stomach with one hand as she held onto the arm with the other, imagining late nights spent nursing their daughter, cradling her in the crook of her arm, and felt a strange fondness in her heart at the thought. Lena would never call herself maternal, but the picture was painted so vividly in her mind that it was almost comforting to imagine that she  _ could _ be a good mom.

“Do you like the crib?” Kara asked, stilling the rocking chair and darting over to the wooden crib, gripping the side as eagerness gave her a childlike look of wonder, cheeks dimpling as she looked over at Lena. “I put it together myself, and let me tell you, it’s a good thing that I’m not human! I broke six hammers putting it together and I think my thumb’s glad for inhuman invulnerability.”

A laugh worked its way past Lena’s lips, expression softening with tender exasperation as she looked at Kara. “It’s perfect.”

“And the bassinet! I thought we’d keep this downstairs beside your bed for the first few months. Or wherever it is that you’ll be staying. And this mobile! It’s off J’onn. See, that’s Rao, and that little planet is Krypton. And this little one is Earth. The red one is Mars. And that’s Colu and Naltor.”

Dashing across the room again, Kara opened the drawer to the old walnut wood dresser, pulling out something blood red and fluid. In a blur of motion, she was kneeling before Lena with a soft smile curling her lips as she held the fabric aloft.

“And this is a gift from Brainy. He used the torn cloak from my old suit to make a baby blanket. Which is funny, because it was originally actually Clark’s baby blanket when he was sent to Earth, made from Kryptonian tensile fabric that’s virtually indestructible. And then Clark gave it to James to give to  _ me _ to use as my cape, and now it’s back to being a blanket for another Kryptonian baby!”

Depositing the fabric in Lena’s lap, Kara was off again, across the room before Lena’s eyes could even track the movement, plucking something out of a bag and letting out a laugh. She held a blue stuffed animal that was definitely not a creature found on Earth, and Kara rolled her eyes as she took in Lena’s bewildered expression.

“It’s Stitch. You know, from Lilo and Stitch. The Disney movie? Well, he’s an alien creation. An illegal genetic experiment. It’s off-”

“Nia,” Lena snorted with laughter, “of course.”

Laughter spilt out of Kara, light and carefree, and she safely stowed it away before moving onto the next thing. Alex had supplied them with enough baby security equipment and monitors to rival Lena’s set-up at the mansion, as well as an assortment of books and toys off Kelly. And then Kara. There were bottles and bibs, diaper bags and hand-knitted blankets, courtesy of Eliza, pacifiers and little clothes that seemed impossibly small as Lena held them, running the soft cotton through her fingers as her heart stuttered along, trying to keep pace with the onslaught of baby essentials.

“And  _ this _ ,” Kara said with a lopsided smile, placing a large grey striped box wrapped with ribbon in Lena’s lap, “is off me. For you, not for the baby.”

“Wha- you didn’t have to-”

At Lena’s spluttered protests, Kara laid her hand on top of hers, eyes creasing at the corners. “I wanted to. I mean, a year  _ is _ a long time to carry a child, so it’s just … a token of appreciation.”

With a wary look, Lena narrowed her eyes slightly, lips drawn into a flat line as she looked at Kara with suspicion, before her mask cracked and a slow smile spread across her face. Reaching for the ribbon, Lena pulled it free from its bow and lifted the top off the box.

Resting on top was a grey cashmere robe, soft and luxurious as she lifted it out of the box, caressing the fine weave of it. Silk pyjamas lay underneath with fuzzy socks and slippers. And beneath that, bath salts and soaps, lotions and scrubs, tea and candles and all sorts of soothing paraphernalia.

“It’s a, uh, self-care package, I guess. For after she’s born. I imagine you’ll be wanting to take a lot of stress-relieving baths and the like.”

A breathless laugh burst out of Lena as she blinked rapidly, setting the robe back in on top as she tried to compose herself before looking up at Kara. “Thank you, Kara. This is so thoughtful. You didn’t have to do … all of this.”

Lena waved a hand at the room, overcome by so many emotions that she could’ve drowned in them, or exploded from the sheer effort of stamping them down. 

“I know,” Kara murmured, “but I wanted to help.”

“You’ve been more helpful than you know,” Lena replied, voice low and trembling. “I- I should’ve told you that more often, I think. I know I’ve been … prickly and bull-headed, but I don’t think I would’ve been able to bear it all if it wasn’t for you. And I don’t just mean because of your blood helping me not die. So … thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Kara said, one side of her mouth hitching up into an uneven smile. “I just wanted you to know that … she’s going to be loved. So loved. Not just by me and you, which I think would’ve been enough anyway, but she  _ is _ going to have a big family. She doesn’t need my mom or your mom to make it happen. She has everyone else, and they’re good, loving people who’ll spoil her rotten. I know it.”

Nodding, Lena felt tears flood her eyes again as she let out a strained laugh. Sniffing, she cleared her throat and ducked her head down, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“To be honest, Kara, I think I already knew that. It’s not her I’m worried about … it’s me.”

“What?  _ Why? _ Is it about giving birth? Alex can put you under if-”

“No, it’s not that,” Lena said with a scoff of laughter, roughly rubbing at her eye with the cuff of her sleeve as she scowled at her lap. “I just … this whole thing … I’d be lying if I said I kept her for any other reason than being lonely. I just wanted someone to love me, and … who better than a child to raise? But … my mom.”

With a sharp sigh of frustration, Lena shook her head, teeth digging into her bottom lip as her shoulders bunched and her stomach knotted itself with unease.

“I’m scared I don’t know what real love looks like. And what if the only way I know how to raise a child is based on my mom? She’ll grow up  _ hating _ me. And if I don’t have her, then who do I have? I’m … all alone. This is my last shot at doing something good and right, because everything else is gone, and if I fail at this then what do I have left? What’s to stop me from becoming just like my family? What if I only know resentment, and I turn her against me too, and I hate her for leaving? I’m not supposed to  _ hate _ my own child. What kind of person feels that way? My family have- have warped me and I just- I don’t know how-”

“Hey,” Kara whispered, pulling the box from Lena’s grasp and setting it aside as she took her hands in her own, running her thumbs over the bumps of her knuckles.

There was a pucker of discontent between Kara’s eyebrows as she looked up at her, eyes dark and insistent. 

“That’s  _ not _ true. None of it is.”

With a quiet snort of laughter, Lena eased her hands out of Kara’s grip and braced herself against the arms of the chair, pushing her way to her feet with some struggling, before Kara wrapped an arm around her and splayed her hand against Lena’s back, giving her the guiding push she needed.

“It’s easy for you to say,” Lena said, pulling away from her reach once the floor was stable beneath her feet. “You’re warm and kind and you’ve known love, despite the betrayals and the lies. I wish I  _ could _ be like you, but … I don’t think I have it in me anymore. Whatever chance there was for me to be trusting and open is far gone. Just being in this  _ room _ makes me think about how wrong it can go. Being a parent, I mean.” 

Pausing for a moment as the breath caught in her throat, Lena dried her clammy palms on the bottom of her shirt, swallowing thickly as her eyes flickered up to the ceiling, locking onto the crown moulding and the gleaming chandelier. A laugh bloomed in her chest at the thought of Kara floating ten feet off the ground, polishing it to a shine as she readied the room for their daughter.

“This was  _ my _ room,” she finally continued, the words thick and wobbly as she fought back the tears that stung her eyes. It was a losing battle and she couldn’t stop them from spilling over and running down her cheeks, brushed away so fast that she could almost pretend that they hadn’t been there in the first place if it wasn’t for the ones that followed straight after. 

“I’m sure you didn’t know it when you chose it. But this was my room when I lived here. I spent  _ hours _ hiding in here, or a dozen other rooms in this house, away from the fighting and the cold shoulders and manipulating games. I told you that this house feels like it’s haunted sometimes, and it scares me, all those memories … I don’t want her to grow up with the same childhood I had. But I don’t know anything else. I don’t know how to be a mom. I don’t know how to love someone with all of me, because I always hold back, because I know what it’s like to be hurt, but I just- I got used to the idea of being alone a long time ago and I don’t know if I can handle being needed and left again. It hurts  _ so _ much and-”

“I love you,” Kara blurted out.

Flinching back as if she’d been struck, Lena found herself speechless for a moment, before a bubble of hysterical laughter worked its way up her throat and fell unbidden from her lips as they quirked up into a simpering smile. Her eyes shone with tears and she gave Kara a pitying look of cold humour.

“Kara-”

“I do,” Kara continued, voice soft and matter of fact, as if it was really that simple. “I’ve loved you for so long that it’s been breaking my heart for  _ months _ to not say it. Years, in fact. And I know that I haven’t always been right, or honest, and there are  _ so _ many things I could’ve handled better but it’s too late to change them now, and I don’t want to make those mistakes again.” 

“You’ve had months to say it. If you really mean it ... you’ve had  _ months,  _ so why now? I- ”

“I  _ wanted _ to, believe me. I wanted to say it so many times, and every day for the past two months, but we were- we were good. We were friends-”

“I never wanted you to be my  _ friend _ ,” Lena said, voice cracking. “I told you- I said that you could tell me anything- if you had  _ anything _ to say-”

Kara let out a breathless laugh, eyes pleading and lamblike, beseeching Lena to understand. “You said- you said you weren’t ready to forgive me, so I never said it. I didn’t want to lose you again by scaring you away.”

_ “Away?” _ Lena spluttered, heart lurching in her chest as she blanched, “all I’ve ever  _ wanted _ is you. I told you I loved you over and over while we’ve been _stuck_ together. I’ve poured my heart out to you more time than I care to admit, no matter how embarrassing and mortifying it was for me to have to do it, and I never asked you to say it back, but if you felt that way … why didn’t you  _ tell me?” _

“Because I was scared! I told you I dreamt of a future with you and you gave me _no_ hint that you were ready for that with  me . We never talked about it. We’ve never even spoken about what comes next. After. And of course, the easiest answer is that I love you and you love me and the three of us can be together, a perfectly imperfect family, but I felt that way a _long_ time before you fell pregnant. See, you think that you’re going to be alone, and that if you don’t have her, you have nothing. But you have  _ me _ . You’ve had me from the moment I walked into your office. Hook, line and sinker. And I’ve never wanted  _ anyone _ like that before.”

Drawing in a hitching breath, Kara raked a hand through her hair, wide-eyed and unsettled as she babbled, the words spilling from her in an unstoppable torrent, leaving Lena struck silent and stunned.

“And you could’ve told  _ me! _ You could’ve told me that you were ready- that you were serious when you said-”

Scoffing, Lena’s pale face darkened with a flush of red as her eyebrows furrowed together over tearful eyes. Arms folding over her chest as her body broke out in a prickling sweat, sticking her shirt to her skin, Lena stubbornly jerked her chin forward.

“Of  _ course _ I was serious! When have I ever not been? Yes, okay, maybe you’re right that I wasn’t ready. But that was  _ months _ ago! That was when I’d only seen you twice in  _ months _ and hadn’t even had a  _ second _ to unpack … everything. I’m a strong person. I’m hard and difficult and I can hold a grudge better than anyone, but you think that I could be around you for _months_ and not give in to what I wanted more than anything? That I could  _ live _ with you and ignore my feelings? I wanted to matter to you without needing to beg. I didn’t want to  _ ask _ for you to want me around. I thought- I don’t know, maybe it was just my stupid pride, but I didn’t want to have to force it. I wanted you to pick me because you  _ wanted _ me. And I thought that maybe you were  _ just _ here for the baby-”

_ “The baby?” _ Kara spluttered, breathlessly amused as her lips parted with surprise, the corners curled up slightly as her eyebrows rose. “You thought that I was here only for her? She’s not even here yet, Lena. She’s not going to be here for  _ weeks. _ I’ve been here for  _ you _ . I would’ve been here from the very beginning, from the very first day, if you’d let me. And I don’t blame you for not wanting to be around me, because you’re right; you hadn’t had time to sort through your feelings then. But if you think I’m here for any other reason than the fact that I’ve been desperately in love with you for  _ years _ , I- well … I don’t know. I should’ve made sure you knew that. I love you. I  _ love you _ . If today’s a day for renewal and rebirth then let this be the one thing that we breathe life back into.”

Lena was still as Kara stepped towards her, lanky and mournfully insistent as she looked at Lena with unwavering certainty in her sad blue eyes, reaching up to cup Lena’s face in her warm hands. Her eyes slid closed at the touch, gentle and reverent, and her folded arms limply came undone to hang at her sides.

“I love you,” Kara whispered, firm and earnest.

And Lena believed her. How could she not? Kara’s words were laced with it, tender and sweet and full of adoration as her fingertips burned against the underside of Lena’s jaw. Eyes wide and bright with tears, lips parted as she breathed unevenly, Lena felt the words ring true in her heart, intimate and doting as it made itself at home beneath her ribcage, spreading through her body with lazy snugness, as if it was stretching itself out, waking from a peaceful slumber after finally being acknowledged after being starved for attention for so long. But it had been there all along, there was no mistaking it.

And any lingering doubts were swept away as Kara slowly, hesitantly, leant in, lips parted as her breath hitched with nervous anticipation. Their second kiss was unlike the first, sweet and lingering and full of utter devotion, making Lena’s toes curl as her hands fumbled to clutch at Kara’s shirt, eyelashes fluttering closed as she savoured the taste of her. No blood, no unexpected surprises to spring from it, except the shocking revelation that Kara  _ loved _ her. And that was a welcome surprise, but not quite as unwelcome as the greater one that followed.

In an ordinary human pregnancy, at the baby’s current size and development, it wouldn’t have been a cause for concern, verging on extremely unlikely, seeing as she still had just shy of two months left. But, as it was, the baby was stronger than a normal human child, with Lena’s broken ribs and bruised stomach testament to that. And perhaps it was the visceral reaction to Lena’s reaction to the kiss, or the Aos-Kolir sparked by Kara’s close proximity, or simply just a poorly timed kick, but as Lena melted into Kara’s arms, blissfully at peace, she felt the odd sensation of something bursting inside her.

It wasn’t until a seeping wetness slowly soaked its way through her shorts and started trickling down her leg, unnervingly warm and making her give pause, that Lena turned rigid in Kara’s arms. Pulling back from the kiss, dazed and sheepish, Kara gave her a disarming smile, her hands dropping from Lena’s face to her shoulders, before she sensed that something was wrong. Taking in the ashen pallor of Lena’s fearful face as she stared at Kara with unfocused eyes, heart hammering in her chest, panic twisted Kara’s insides.

“Did I- did I do something wrong or-”

“You need to call Alex,” Lena bluntly interrupted, her lips bloodless and thin.

“Alex? Why?”

“My water just broke.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who's been reading this, i had a lot of fun writing it! also thank you to q for always supporting me and sending me this amazing artwork by eakingston2019 to base this off:
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/B4n2ErzAPRw/?igshid=1fittu5974nnd

“What?  _ No. _ It’s too early. Your calculations said-”

_ “I know what they said,” _ Lena tightly replied, face taut as panic flashed in her eyes. “Clearly I was wrong or- or she’s just early. We can debate that later;  _ call your sister.” _

Mouth opening and closing for a moment, Kara’s hands nervously fluttered around Lena, before she dashed downstairs, returning with a phone pressed to her ear and a pale look of alarm on her face. With a rough sigh, she ground her teeth together and lowered the phone, eyes wide and worried.

“There’s no answer.”

“Okay, well, you need to go and get her,” Lena shakily stammered, running a hand over her damp forehead as her heart leapt into her throat.

“No, I can’t leave-”

With a huff of frustration, Lena grabbed fistfuls of Kara’s shirt and gave her a level stare, urgent and oddly calm. “Kara, I need you to go to the DEO, forcibly remove your sister from whatever torture session or gun meeting she’s in and bring her back here  _ now,  _ before this baby starts clawing its way out of me.”

“It wouldn’t do that, would it?” Kara faintly asked, face a mask of horror.

Suppressing a hysterical laugh, Lena gave her a thin smile, “I don’t know, do you want to find out?”

A choked laugh of panic worked its way up Kara’s throat as she gave Lena an exasperated look of distress. She hesitated for a moment, torn between staying or going, reluctant to leave Lena by herself, even if only for a few minutes at the most, but finally relented with an irritable sigh. 

Walking backwards towards the window, swift and sure-footed, Kara looked at her with grave concern, holding a hand out to keep her at bay. “I’ll be quick, just … don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

She was gone in a flash, the window open as a cold breeze swept in and Kara disappeared before Lena’s brain could even comprehend the fact that she’d moved. With a snort of laughter, Lena rolled her eyes and grumbled under her breath.

“Where else would I go?”

Left to her own devices for a few minutes, Lena gingerly shuffled out of the room and made her way downstairs, hand white-knuckled on the bannister and teeth grit with uneasiness as she slowly descended, flushed and nervous. Swallowing her fears, she put such thoughts aside for the time being and stepped into the cool bathroom, stripping off her damp shirt and wet shorts, made difficult as her stomach got in the way.

Drying herself off as much as she could and dampening the towel to run it over her clammy skin, Lena drew in a deep breath, her mind darkening at the edges as panic crept in, squeezing her throat painfully tight as her chest constricted. Drawing in a ragged breath, Lena turned and made her way back out into the hallway, trying to still the tremor in her hand as she drifted towards the foyer-turned-operating theatre, standing on the cool marble floor as she stared at the lonely operating table standing in the middle of the cavernous room. 

It had been covered with sheets long ago to keep it sterile and was ominous in the gloomy, dim lighting of the room. Flipping a light switch, Lena flooded the space with a halo of amber light from the domineering chandelier hanging from the high frescoed ceiling, before she drifted towards the bed as if in a dream.

With stiff, jerky movements, she moved a wheeled metal trolley over to the side of the bed, pulling out surgical cloths and instruments. She lay them down on top of a clean cloth, still in the packaging, and pulled out a tub of disinfectant wipes, pulling the white sheet off the table in one fell swoop and going through the mindless motion of wiping it down.

Kara hadn’t been gone five minutes by the time she was done, standing with her hands braced against the edge of the padded table as she tried not to let panic consume her. The most she could manage was keeping it just below the surface, brimming dangerously close to her breaking point, but Lena just breathed slowly, feeling a cold sweat break out on her clammy skin as her heart stumbled.

“Right,” Lena shakily murmured to herself, pressing a hand against her taut stomach, as if trying to keep the baby calm and still, “well, I guess we just have to wait now, huh, specimen? Mommy will be back any minute now.”

Her feeble reassurances did little to comfort her as she slowly started pacing back and forth, murmuring to the baby as she cradled her stomach, trying to bolster her confidence. It was like putting duct tape over steadily widening cracks, and as she drew in shallow, ragged breaths, Lena felt herself slowly start to crumble as the stifling loneliness and overwhelming reality of her situation settled in.

As each minute dragged on with no sign of Kara’s reappearance, fear managed to worm its way into Lena’s mind, twisting her stomach as her chest heaved with hitching, breathless sobs. She should’ve already been back by now, and Lena clenched her shaking hands into fists as she felt each moment pass by, measured by the claustrophobic feeling of the walls closing in on her and the ceiling bearing down. 

Barely ten minutes had passed since Kara had left, which felt like a lifetime to Lena, when she finally returned. Lena didn’t even have time to acknowledge the banging sound of the backdoor flying open before Kara was before her, frantic and wild-eyed.

“Sorry! I’m sorry,” she breathlessly exclaimed, “she was making an arrest. I had to track her down and then we needed to- to get some equipment from the DEO. But I’m here. I’m here.”

Kara’s hand was a burning pressure against Lena’s bare stomach and the side of her neck as she gave her an anxious look of guilt and worry, unable to keep her hands off her as she reassured herself that Lena was okay. Except that  _ okay _ only went skin-deep, and Lena couldn’t stop the small sob that broke free from her clamped lips at Kara’s fretful worrying.

“I can’t do this,” Lena quietly admitted, hanging her head as she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her chest painfully constrict as she drew in a rough breath, “I can’t do this.”

“What? No, you’ll be fine,” Kara murmured, her voice warm with encouragement as she tenderly brushed sweaty strands of hair out of Lena’s face. Hunching over as she tried to catch Lena’s eye, Kara gave her a strained smile, full of conviction. “Alex is going to give you a spinal block - you won’t feel a thing. And it’ll be over before you know it.”

Shaking her head, Lena let out a shuddering sob, going slack in Kara’s grasp as she struggled not to let the first tear fall. If she did, Lena knew that the floodgates would be opened and she wouldn’t be able to stop. Panic would take over and nothing short of sedating her would calm her down enough to get her on the table.

“I can’t be a mom,” Lena confessed, “I can’t do it.”

“You’re going to be a  _ great _ mom.”

“You have to take her.”

Reaching out to grip the red fabric of Kara’s cape where it attached to her shoulders, Lena stared at her with determined resolution, knuckles white and heart in her throat.

“You have to take her.”

“What do you mean?” Kara said, pulling back as her brow furrowed. And still, her mouth curled up into an uncertain smile, bewildered amusement on her face as she smoothed Lena’s hair back. “Take her  _ where? _ She’s going to be fine. Alex will make sure of that.”

Making a low sound of protest at the back of her throat, Lena let out a shuddering breath and sniffed, trying to mask her tear-filled eyes. “I’m  _ giving _ her to you. I can’t- I can’t be a mom. She’s yours. You can- you can have her.  _ You’re _ the sun - not me. You can give her the warmth and love she needs. You can take her. I’m sorry.”

“What?” Kara sharply asked, face flooded with shock as she blanched, “no, Lena-”

“I’m ready,” Alex called out, latex gloves snapping into place as she stood, gowned and ready, everything sterilised and prepared. 

Her brown eyes were stern and determined in the strip beneath her cap and above her mask, and she gave Kara a grave nod. Turning back to Lena, Kara gave her a wavering smile as she cupped her chin, eyes wide and pleading.

“You can do this.”

Swallowing the lump lodged in her throat, Lena closed her eyes and felt tears trickle out from between closed lids, and drew in a long, deep breath, filling her up and quashing any protests that bubbled up within her. Whether she thought she could or not didn’t matter, because the baby would be making its way out of her one way or another, and despite the fact that she was weeks early and the doses of red sun radiation to make her complacent and weak, it was still a baby that was stronger than Lena’s body would be able to handle. Her best chance of a safe delivery for them both was to get on the table and let Alex cut her open.

She didn’t reply, didn’t tell Kara how wrong she was, how her faith was misplaced. Lena just walked over to the table and looked at Kara expectantly. Strong arms gently lifted her onto the table and Alex loomed over her, ringed in a halo of yellow light from the surgical light above. The padded cushions of the table were cool as they stuck to her damp skin and Lena closed her eyes as Alex draped a surgical cloth over her, a large square cut of for her bump to fit through.

Kara moved around as a blur, obeying Alex’s strict orders as Lena was hooked up to machines and an IV of fluids was set up beside her. The tense anticipation in the air was almost unbearable, and Lena lay in silence, mouth dry and heart stuttering along.

“Okay, I need you to sit her up a second so I can give her the injection,” Alex said to Kara, holding the said needle in her gloved hand.

As Kara gently eased Lena up, sitting her forward so that Alex could run her fingers over the bumps of her vertebrae, finding the correct one, Lena stared into Kara’s eyes with nauseating grimness.

“Kara,” she whispered, voice gravelly and broken. “You were right.”

A grin lit up Kara’s face as she kept a tight grip on Lena, keeping her upright and distracted while her sister worked. “Oh yeah? About what?”

“My hubris is my biggest flaw. I- this was a mistake. My pride and loneliness got in the way and- and I shouldn’t have done this.”

Her face was grey and drawn, lips flat and bloodless as she looked at Kara with bloodshot eyes, perspiration beading on her brow and an air of desperation around her. 

“Hey, I’m going to be right beside you the whole time,” Kara softly promised.

Lena’s face contorted with a brief spasm of pain at the prick of the needle sliding into her back, and she held back a cry of pain at the pinching feeling of the anaesthetic being injected into her spine. Shaking her head, Lena let out a long, shuddering breath.

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Sh, it’s fine. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry that I ruined everything,” Lena breathlessly sobbed, blinking back tears as she hunched her shoulders forward.

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

“I’m selfish. I know I am, and I won’t ask you to stay-”

“I’ll be right here holding your hand the entire time.”

A choked laugh fell from Lena’s lips as they twisted into a wry smile, “I don’t mean-”

Soft lips brushing her sweaty forehead, warm and gentle, Kara murmured against Lena’s damp hair as she cupped the back of her head, “I know. We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, we’ll give it ten minutes to work,” Alex said, pulling back and disposing of the needle as Kara gently lowered Lena back down to the table. “I’ll be back in a minute. Kara, can you hook up the oxygen for me?”

Eager to help, Kara’s warm hands faded from Lena’s clammy skin, leaving her feeling cold and aching as she lay there, head turned to the side as she watched Kara move around, quick enough to make her figure blur slightly at the edges. 

“Here,” Kara murmured as she finally came to a stop beside Lena, an oxygen mask held in her hand as she looked down at her with grave tenderness. “Let me slip this on.”

Her hand was gentle as she cradled the back of Lena’s head, lifting it from the padded cushion of the table and slipping the elasticated band around her head before the oxygen mask was pressed into place. Cold oxygen tickled her nose as Lena sucked in a mouthful, feeling it slide down her throat, cool and fresh. The mask fogged up as she exhaled, blinking slowly up at Kara as the feeling slowly faded from her feet and legs, working its way up to her abdomen as the pressure built up, before leaving her feeling strangely numb, as if the lower half of her body no longer existed. It was unnerving, yet Lena knew she’d be glad for it soon enough.

When Alex finally returned, Lena craned her neck to see what she was doing, taking in the armful of blood bags with a lurch of panic. Lena couldn’t hear the whispered conversation between the two sisters as Alex turned her back on her, arms moving and shoulders tense, and she felt a flicker of annoyance well up inside.

“What’s wrong?” she called out, voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

With a huff of impatience, Lena fumbled for the mask and pulled it down, lips cool and tingling as she frowned at Alex’s back.

_ “What’s wrong?” _

Glancing over her shoulder, Alex gave her a placating look, yet slightly strained as it never quite softened her eyes. “Nothing.”

_ “Alex,” _ Lena growled, tense and low as she pushed herself up onto her elbows.

“She’s just … a little earlier than expected. I’m just explaining to Kara that … things might not be as easy as we hoped. We’re just … prepping for the worst-case scenario, but it won’t come to that.”

There was a fierce determination to her words as she gave Lena a hard look, and Lena swallowed her nervousness and nodded back to her, knowing that Alex would do everything she could. And if that wasn’t enough, then Lena knew that there was nothing else they could do. Not while she was opened up on a table.

Still, she watched with apprehension as Kara opened a vein and Alex stuck a cannula into it, the unspoken reason dangling over them. Kara’s blood might be too much radiation for the baby, but it was the only precaution they had if she came out in bad shape. The last scans had shown that she was on the small end of a human baby that was able to survive outside of the body, her growth having exponentially increased after the dose of Kara’s blood, yet there was no saying whether a Kryptonian could survive at such a short gestation. As a last resort, Kara’s blood might help her develop some more while they kept her incubated and hoped for the best.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Alex finally declared, pausing for a moment as her eyes gently creased at the corners, hinting at a small smile behind her mask, “if you are.”

“Just do it,” Lena thickly replied, fixing her oxygen mask and lowering herself back down.

She listened to Alex put on a new pair of gloves and watched the adjustment of the overhead light out of the corner of her eyes as she drew in a deep breath, trying to still her pounding heart. If she could feel her stomach, Lena had no doubt that it would’ve been roiling with sickening nervousness.

“Hey,” Kara whispered, her fingers threading through Lena’s as she smiled down at her, achingly soft and sweet, reaching out with her other hand to brush Lena’s hair out of her face, her fingertips lingering on the underside of her jaw. “You can do this.”

Lena didn’t reply, just closed her eyes and feebly nodded, squeezing Kara’s hand as tight as she could. And then she opened her eyes again and stared upwards, taking in the painted fresco as Alex silently moved about, the only sounds filling the tense room being the monitors and Lena’s ragged breaths and beating heart.

While Alex hadn’t set up a divider to block Lena’s line of vision, knowing that it wouldn’t bother her, Lena still had no desire to watch. And so, Alex got to work, scooting the line of Lena’s shorts and underwear down slightly underneath the surgical cloth draped over her. Disinfecting her stomach until it was a sallow yellow, filling the room with the sharp antiseptic smell, Alex picked up a scalpel and hesitated.

Meeting her sister’s scared eyes, Alex gave her a firm nod and squared her shoulders, before lightly pressing the scalpel against Lena’s stomach, gauging the woman’s reaction before continuing. At the bottom of the bump, Alex pressed down, the skin dimpling and giving way beneath the sharp tool, and she sliced a short, neat line across the bottom of the bump, right between the jutting bones of her pelvis.

“You doing okay, Lena?” Alex called out, voice steady and calm as she worked.

At the non-committal, muffled grunt, Alex quietly laughed, reaching for a retractor to pull back the layer of skin and tissue as she cut through to the uterus. Widening the hole she’d made with a few more retractors, Alex stared down at the uterus with wariness, her eyes flickering to Lena’s pale face and her vitals steadily displayed on the monitors, before she pressed the scalpel against the membrane.

Metal bent beneath the pressure that Alex applied, the flimsy scalpel twisted into a useless scrap of junk in her hand, and a rough sigh muffled by her mask fell from her mouth as she met Kara’s eyes.

“We were right.”

“What’s wrong?” Lena asked, her words faint and fraught with worry.

“I’m going to need to open you up with kryptonite. Just a little bit, but we’re not sure how strongly the baby will react to it. It’s the only way to get her out though.”

“Do it,” Lena ordered, a hard set to her jaw as she clenched her teeth, head raised slightly as she watched Alex reach for the tool.

It was an ordinary scalpel in every way, except for the neon green edge to the blade, sharp as a razor and poisonous to Kryptonians. Hesitation prolonging the moment, Alex swallowed, her mouth dry and hand steady, and reluctantly forced herself to press the scalpel to the outer serous layer, teeth ground together as she gingerly sliced across. It parted beneath the sharp green edge and Alex breathed out a sigh of relief. 

Craning her neck to look, drifting as far from Lena’s side as she could, while still maintaining a firm grip on her hand, Kara watched on with childlike innocence, eyes wide and curious as her heart thudded in her chest, her skin prickling with excited anticipation. It was so different from anything on Krypton, with their advanced methods, quick and easy and painless, yet she watched on with a flicker of wariness in her blue eyes, mouth drawn to a flat line as she watched Alex’s gloved hands slip into the gaping hole.

Looking at Lena, Kara gave her an encouraging smile, squeezing her hand a little tighter, thumb smoothing circles across her knuckles, before she anxiously looked back to her sister. In one smooth, gentle motion, Alex pulled out a small figure and Kara jumped slightly, startled by the sight of pink skin and the waxy white substance mottling it, a fuzz of hair sprouting from the top of a small head.

_ “Oh,” _ Kara murmured, faint with surprise as her eyebrows rose towards her hairline.

Alex’s dark eyes met hers as she held the baby in her hands, one hand cradling the neck while the other cupped her back. The baby was silent, no cries breaking the tension in the room, yet Kara could hear the loud, steady pulsing of her rapid heartbeat. Grey with worry, Kara didn’t say anything else as she clutched Lena’s hand, casting a sideways glance at her, taking in Lena’s pale face, beaded with sweat and hardened with worry and unease.

With quick movements, Alex set the baby down on Lena’s covered legs and clamped the umbilical cord, before shearing through it with the sharp scalpel, and then grabbed a clean cloth and bundled her up, abruptly turning her back on the two expectant mother’s. She worked fast, setting the baby down on a sturdy metal table and working her mouth open to check her airways.

Eyes filling with stinging tears at the conflicting emotions that drowned her, Kara opened and closed her mouth, her throat tight with dread as she shifted restlessly from foot to foot, agitation radiating from her.

“Alex,” Kara slowly said, her name laced with urgency.

Holding a hand up to shush her, Alex didn’t deign to reply as she quickly shoved the ends of a stethoscope into her ears and pressed the cold metal disc against the baby’s chest, listening intently. After a few moments, she hummed disconcertingly.

“Oh.”

_ “Alex,” _ Kara tightly exclaimed, panic flooding her as she clutched Lena’s hand, reluctant to break her promise even as every fibre of her wanted to rush to her sister’s side and take her daughter in her arms.

Even as she thought it, Lena’s hand went limp in her grasp, fingers slowly uncurling as she relinquished her hold. Having been quiet throughout the whole thing, Lena finally spoke, her voice rough and steady as she looked at Kara with glassy green eyes, lips trembling beneath the oxygen mask and face ashen.

_ “Go.” _

Slowly releasing her hold, Kara pressed a fleeting kiss to the back of Lena’s hand and was beside Alex in a heartbeat, just in time for her sister to scoop the baby up in her arms and turn. Blinking in surprise at the sudden presence of Kara beside her, Alex flinched backwards slightly, before she let out a light-hearted laugh.

“She’s perfect,” Alex quietly said, her voice thick with emotion. “Your daughter is perfect.”

Relief slammed into Kara so fast that her knees almost buckled with unfamiliar weakness, the air rushing from her lungs as her stomach clenched. A breathless laugh worked its way up her throat as Kara stared down at the tiny bundle wrapped in a blue cloth, her hands shaking as she reached out.

“She’s- she's ... okay?” she whispered uncertainly, her eyes flashing to Alex’s, questioning and tearful.

Eyes crinkling with a smile, Alex gently handed over the baby, and Kara felt her heart grow three times its size in her chest at the featherlight weight of her daughter in her hands. She was tiny and warm and silent, yet her eyes were open, green as anything.

_ “Oh,” _ Kara quietly sobbed, a smile stretching across her face as she hunched protectively over her, awe written on her face as tears wet her cheeks.

“I think your blood helped more than we thought. Her lungs are fully developed. Heart is strong. All ten fingers and toes,” Alex murmured, “she’s early but … she’s  _ fine.” _

With a choked laugh, Kara cradled her in the crook of her elbow and reached out with a shaky finger to lightly trace the tip over the soft, full cheek of the stirring baby. She smiled as she watched her tiny face screw up with a yawn, heart soaring with unbridled joy as the little mouth stretched open and eyes shut, before they opened again, so much like Lena’s that Kara could’ve cried.

“Kryptonians are more developed than humans when they’re born,” Kara murmured, her voice low and thick, “that could have something to do with it. You know how animals come out ready to walk, but humans are pushed to their limit to carry a child for even nine months? I guess growing them in amniotic sacs gives them more time to develop. Most of us are walking by the time we’re eight months old. I wonder who she’ll take after.”

Love coloured Kara’s musings as she swayed with her daughter in her arms, completely enamoured with her already, struck by so much wonder that she could hardly believe she was real.

“Oh, well, yes, that’ll be it then,” Alex murmured distractedly, her brow creasing as she looked over to Lena, “you keep hold of her while I finish up.”

Nodding, Kara drifted towards the table as Alex rounded the other side, murmuring gentle reassurances to Lena about the rest of the procedure. Lena wasn’t even paying attention, her eyes wide and scared as she looked at Kara, at the bundle in her arms, her lips parted and her heart in her throat. Her face was ghostly and there was a tense uncertainty to the corners of her eyes as she watched, enraptured yet reserved.

As Alex got to work removing the placenta and stitching Lena back up, Kara drifted towards the bed, smiling brightly down at Lena as she brimmed with excitement. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Kara asked, eyebrows rising eagerly.

Shaking her head, Lena closed her eyes, making a low sound at the back of her throat. Tears slid from the corners of her closed eyelids and slipped down into her dark hair as she turned her head, staring straight up. Hand fumbling with the mask, Lena pulled it off, letting it fall limply beside her on the table.

“I can’t,” Lena said, her voice small and broken.

“It’s okay,” Kara quickly assured her, light and soothing as she gave her a soft smile. “You can- you can try again later.”

Lena started to shake her head, drawing in a hitching breath as she refused to open her eyes. With a touch of sadness to her smile, Kara reached out with one hand and tenderly stroked Lena’s bare arm, her touch light and comforting, and it made Lena want to cry.

“How about I describe her to you?” Kara whispered, fighting back bewildered sadness as Lena stubbornly refused.

She knew she was scared. Lena had made that very clear from the beginning, along with her reservations about being a mother. But they’d come so far, all the way to the very end, and now that Kara held their daughter, she couldn’t help but love her with every bit of her being. Despite Lena’s worries, despite her deepest fears that she’d never be good enough, Kara knew that she was wrong, and if she just  _ held _ her, she’d know it too. 

But it would take time with Lena. She knew that, and she wouldn’t push her. She wouldn’t go though - she wouldn’t go and take their daughter unless she knew Lena meant it without a shadow of a doubt. So, patiently, Kara stood beside the bed, a safe distance away, and watched as Lena hesitantly nodded, eyes squeezed shut and clamped into a flat line as she winced, bracing herself as she waited for Kara to speak.

“She  _ does _ have your eyes,” Kara quietly told her, her voice coloured with a smile, warm and pleased, “I hoped she would. They’re the exact shade  _ and _ shape. I think she looks like me. She has my nose, and my lips, I think.”

Running a hand over the shock of hair, clumped together in places from the substances she’d been floating in, Kara hummed with perturbed intrigue, a pucker between her eyebrows as she smiled faintly with confusion.

“Her hair. I think it’s going to be fair when she’s older, but … it’s almost  _ red _ at the moment,” she murmured, letting out a quiet laugh as she studied the coppery tint to the dark hair, mostly unnoticeable given the dampness of her hair, and only through Kara’s acute vision.

_ “Red?” _ Lena asked, her voice rough and anxious as her eyes snapped open.

With another quiet laugh of wonder, Kara nodded as she flashed Lena a quick smile. “Where did  _ that  _ come from?”

The air was expelled from Lena’s lungs in one sharp burst as she went limp against the table, a sob working its way up her throat. She drew in another shuddering breath as tears welled up in her eyes, and threw her arm across her face as she quietly cried, shoulders arching against the table as her chest heaved with her efforts.

“My  _ mom,” _ Lena softly cried, heartbroken and aching with sadness, “it’s from my mom.”

Kara’s expression softened with sympathy at Lena’s raw grief, her heart twinging with helpless pity as she blinked back the tears burning behind her eyes. Mouth dry and throat closing as she fought back the urge to cry, Kara stepped in closer, her voice trembling and hoarse as she replied.

“Do you- do you want to hold her?” she asked again.

And Lena said yes that time, nodding quickly as she drew in a shaky breath and sniffed. Oblivious to Alex still neatly stitching her closed, the two women came together as Kara slowly laid the tiny figure of their daughter down on Lena’s chest, and Lena let out a choked sound of surprise at the heavy weight and burning warmth that burrowed into her.

Arm rising to cradle the small bundle, Lena stared down with wide-eyed wonder, lips parting in surprise as she stared down at her daughter, her heart stuttering in her chest as she skittishly held her, feeling the tangible weight of her against her bare skin. It was shocking, and Lena reeled at the sight of such a tiny person looking up at her with eerily familiar green eyes, unblinking and intelligent.

_ “Oh.” _

“She’s perfect,” Kara said, voice thick with tears as she looked down at Lena, smiling tearfully. “Don’t you think?”

Swallowing thickly, Lena blinked rapidly as a new wave of tears brimmed in her eyes, unable to speak as her throat constricted. After a few painful swallows, she let out a quiet scoff of laughter, a wry smile curling her mouth as her eyes flickered up to meet Kara’s.

“Now that I see her … I can’t help but love her,” she softly admitted, her voice a ragged whisper as she sniffed. “She feels like  _ mine. _ ”

“Our little specimen,” Kara chuckled, reaching down to stroke the reddish hair, a fond look of preoccupation on her face as she stood there, enraptured.

“Have you got a name picked out yet?” Alex called out, startling them both out of their little bubble of astonished bliss.

Kara blinked in surprise as she straightened up, raking her fingers through her hair as she shrugged helplessly, “no, we haven’t-”

“Luna,” Lena murmured, her eyes childishly wide and questioning as she anxiously looked up at Kara, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Luna?”

With an uneven smile, Lena looked back down at the small figure as it yawned, face screwing up and eyes closing as exhaustion washed over the newborn baby, and she hesitantly reached out and stroked a round cheek.

“You’re the sun, Kara,” she said, her voice pained as it cracked slightly, “you said I was  _ your _ yellow sun, but you’re everyone’s. And you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, worrying about what people think, trying your hardest to be warm and optimistic, and I  _ love _ you for that, but I don’t want her to share your burden. You’re the sun, but I want her to be the moon. I want her to know that it’s okay to shine, but she can be cold and dark too. She doesn’t owe the world her light.”

Kara let out a short laugh as she cocked her head to the side, biting her lip as she smiled with amusement, arching an eyebrow at Lena, “it  _ does _ seem awfully fitting, given the winter solstice. It’s almost like she planned it.”

Lena rolled her eyes as she smiled faintly, eyebrows raising in a silent question as she waited for approval. Expression softening, Kara reached down and gently took their daughter from Lena’s chest, cradling her in her slender hands as she held her up level with her face.

“Luna Luthor.”

“Luna  _ Elle _ Luthor,” Lena said.

Starting slightly, Kara blinked in surprise as she sharply looked down at Lena. “Elle?”

“Yeah, like … Luna-El. She’s half-Kryptonian; she has to have a Kryptonian name. Is- is that how it works? I know it’s a patriarchal naming system but-”

“No, Luna-El is … perfect,” Kara said, a small smile curling her lips as she looked back to their daughter, quietly laughing at the puckered frown on her tiny forehead as she lightly dozed. “Moon of the star. It’s a good name.”

“I’m all done,” Alex proclaimed, catching Lena’s attention as she tore her eyes away from her daughter.

Watching as Alex neatly applied a bandage to the stitched line across her lower abdomen, Lena pushed herself up onto her elbows to look, her view obstructed by her ballooning stomach as she grimaced.

“You’re going to need  _ lots _ of rest,” Alex sternly warned her as she gently prodded Lena back down with a faint smile, disposing of the medical supplies into a small steel bin with efficient practice. “And I mean it. I know you’re going to be impatient, but if you tear my perfect stitches open, I’m going to be  _ very  _ annoyed. I’ll get you set up with some morphine for pain relief.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lena drawled, her eyes turning back to Kara.

She jerked against the table and blanched at the sight before her, watching Kara daub their daughter’s pale forehead with vivid red blood as she knelt on the marble floor. Craning her neck, Lena tried to push herself up, the lower half of her body still numb and useless, and let out an indignant squawk.

_ “Kara _ , what-”

“Kryptonian blessing,” Kara dismissively replied, “hang on.”

Lena cast a sideways glance at Alex, who shrugged helplessly, looking as baffled as Lena felt, and with uneasy curiosity, Lena turned back. Still dressed in her suit, Kara cast a striking figure in deep blue and crimson, the cape splayed out behind her on the marble floor as she bowed her head almost reverently over Luna’s oblivious form.

_ “.Dhagier-u wis rrup eh us-kah kir ;zuhne awuhkhu zhadif kryp w rrup ehm duahz-es kryp .nim waila-gehd im kryp i ehrosh-o w rrutiv-ehd .chadhrev-odh khahp w gehd-uju to kehp-es to azhuhm-ahzh to aovem-odh khahp (voiehd-uju chao lizrhom) rrup ven ,eh inah .kehgieru rrup w khahp rrup fis ehm zehtiahr-uju im rrup i ehrosh .fidh rrup nim khahp i raogrhys w rrutiv-ehd ;zov skilor-u w khahp i ehrosh ki rrup i giv-o vahdhah ton skilor-u rrup i ehrosh ki khahtiv-ehd .nahzhgehn-i tiv inah w tiv ieiu zw tiv inah.” _

The torrent of incomprehensible words finally came to a stop as Kara bowed her head over Luna and gently kissed her brow, before fluidly rising to her feet. She smiled at Lena and Alex as she moved back towards the table, baby easily nestled into the crook of her elbow and gestured offhandedly with her free hand.

“Rao’s prayer. On Krypton new parents have a ceremony where they bring their child home from the Genesis Chamber and recite the prayer and tell their child their hopes for them. You know, they hope they’re brave or intelligent, ambitious, hardworking … all of that. Do you want to do that for her?”

There was uncertain hopefulness in Kara’s eyes as she looked to Lena, and it was clear how much it meant to her. Clear that Kara never thought she’d have the chance to perform such rituals for her own children. Lena’s heart softened slightly and she opened her mouth to reply when Alex gently interrupted.

“Can it wait a few minutes? I think we should get Lena up to bed and give her some morphine first. She won’t be walking anywhere for a few hours so you’ll have to carry her.”

“Oh, yeah, of  _ course,”  _ Kara quietly exclaimed, hesitating slightly before smiling down at Luna, “how about you properly meet Aunt Alex while I help mommy upstairs?”

“Yes, please,” Alex eagerly replied, her face lighting up as she quickly finished detaching the wires from Lena and the machinery, before rounding the table with her arms stretched out, “time for some quality time with her favourite aunt!”

Quietly chuckling, Kara relinquished her hold on her daughter and placed her in Alex’s waiting arms, watching with fond tenderness as Alex expertly cradled her, cooing over her as she smiled widely. Kara was struck by a pang of empathy, watching her sister hold the baby and quietly wished that she’d get to experience it herself soon. For now, Kara would let her dote on her niece as much as she wanted.

“Can you take me to the bathroom first?” Lena asked, her voice rasping and exhausted. “I feel … gross.”

“Sure.”

As gentle as she could possibly be, Kara lifted her from the table and moved swiftly, her motion as soothing as the gentle swaying of a wave to Lena as she carried her down the hallway and into the bathroom. Setting her down in the tub, Kara crouched beside her and stroked her hair, eyes shining with adoration.

“You were amazing,” she murmured, leaning over to press a light kiss to Lena’s forehead.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” Lena haltingly replied, expression clouded with bewildered surprise as she lay slumped against the edge of the bath.

“I know.”

“Thank you,” Lena slowly said, a faint smile pulling up the corners of her mouth, “thank you for holding my hand.”

A wide smile stretched across Kara’s face as she reached into the tub to pick up Lena’s hand, cradling it between her own, cold and limp, the feverish burn to her skin gone now that their daughter was born. Pressing Lena’s hand to her face, Kara gave her a shy smile, peering up at her as she ducked her head down.

“I’ll hold your hand anytime you want me to,” she solemnly promised.

Eyes sliding closed as she smiled, Lena let her head loll to the side, “thank you.”

“Do you want some help washing up?”

“Well, I can’t feel the lower half of my body, so that would be nice. Thanks.”

Gently laying her hand back down in her lap, Kara nodded and pushed herself to her feet, dragging the shower curtain around the claw-foot tub before she turned on the water. It was frigid as it sputtered over Lena, but she didn’t seem to mind as Kara looked down with a sheepish look of apology, testing the water until it was hot.

Laying in the bottom of the tub, Lena sighed faintly as hot water beat down on her, relishing the feeling of it on her strangely cool skin for the first time in months. She gave Kara a wan smile over the rim of the tub.

“I’ll be back in a second. Don’t try and get out by yourself,” Kara cautioned her, a pucker appearing between her eyebrows.

“Okay.”

Kara was gone in a blur, the door shutting behind her to give Lena some privacy, and she made quick work of returning, back at Lena’s side before she even had time to miss her. Setting down a bundle of grey, Kara gave her a wavering smile as she approached the bath, skittish and nervous. 

Rolling her eyes, Lena peeled off her sweat and water-soaked sports bra, dropping it over the side onto the floor and firmly clearing her throat as she jut her chin forward. Taking it as a sign to start helping. With a bar of soap and a small hand towel, Kara gently scrubbed the dried sweat and sallow antiseptic stain from her skin, while Lena raked hot water through her dark hair and over her face until she felt more relaxed.

Everything had happened so quickly that Lena was still trying to process it. One minute they’d been taking a nice walk in the mild winter gardens and going through all of the baby products Kara had been secretly hoarding, and the next thing Lena knew, she’d been stretched out on the surgical table in the foyer with a baby pushed into her arms.

After letting Kara wash the suds from her body, she lay beneath the stream of water for a while as she brooded over it. She felt cold and empty, finding herself missing the familiar heaviness inside her, warming her through to the tips of her fingers, and she stared at her hands, clenching and unclenching her fingers as she frowned. It would take some getting used to, to adjust to that fact that she wasn’t growing a half-alien baby inside of her.

She dwelled for longer than she’d planned, feeling a nervous fluttering inside of her as water cascaded over her numb legs, the weight of her change in circumstances hovering on the fringes of her mind. The moment she left the comforting warmth of the bath and stepped out of the bathroom, she would be burdened with the responsibility of motherhood, a change suddenly thrust upon her that she didn’t feel prepared for. All the parenting books in the world weren’t enough to instil her with the confidence needed to get out of the bath.

In the end, it was Kara’s quiet voice that roused her. From behind her, Kara climbed to her feet and turned the taps off, the water slowing to just a few drips from the leaky old shower head, and Kara picked up a fluffy towel from the stack across the room.

Holding the towel stretched out between her hands, Kara wrapped Lena in it and lifted her out of the tub with care, her hands staying around her for a moment longer than was necessary as she lowered Lena down onto the bath mat. Looming over her, Kara gave her a shy smile, peeling a wet strand of hair off Lena’s cheek with her thumb.

“There,” she mumbled, “I brought some pyjamas down for you. Thought it’d be the most comfortable. You’re not too hot are you?”

Kara’s brow anxiously furrowed as she reached out and pressed the back of her hand against Lena’s brow, humming disconcertingly as she tried to gauge her temperature.

“I actually feel cold for this first time in forever,” Lena said with a thin smile.

“We’ll get you tucked up in bed soon,” Kara quietly reassured her, grabbing another towel and drying Lena’s legs off.

Propped up on her elbows with the other towel draped over her, Lena watched as Kara deftly towelled her dry. There was a heavy tension between the two of them as Kara dressed her as quickly and gently as she could, a sheepish look on her face as her eyes darted around the room, everywhere but at Lena’s gaze.

“Okay, all done,” Kara said as she finished buttoning up the shirt for Lena, head ducked down and cheeks pink.

“Is everything okay?” Lena hesitantly asked.

With a quiet chuckle, Kara shrugged nonchalantly, finally meeting her eyes as she gave her a rueful smile. “I don’t know. I think we sort of … left things in the middle when your water broke and it’s all happened so fast, and now it kind of feels … unfinished. I’m not sure where we stand.”

“Yeah,” Lena murmured, lips twitching into a wry smile, “our kisses don’t exactly have a great track record.”

Kara let out a snort of laughter, rolling her eyes as she looked down at Lena with an achingly tender look on her face. “I meant what I said though. All of it.”

“Well, I figured you weren’t just trying to make me go into premature labour,” Lena quipped, before the sharp smile on her lips softened. 

Reaching out, she placed her hand over the back of Kara’s, giving her a faint, encouraging smile. “I know you meant it, and … I’m glad you said it. Especially now.”

“Why now?” Kara asked, brow furrowing as she cocked her head to the side.

“I think … I wouldn’t be able to do this without you. With her coming early, I mean. I don’t know if the kiss was bad timing or the reason why, but not knowing … what you- what you said … that would’ve made this a  _ lot _ harder.”

“When you told me to take her …”

Kara trailed off, a searching look in her round blue eyes as she stared down at Lena, waiting. Averting her gaze, Lena chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain her fears, her worries.

“We both know she’d be better off with you,” Lena murmured, her voice thick with emotion. 

A dark look clouding her face as she sighed, shoulders slumping as she lay sprawled out on the bathroom floor in her new pyjamas. 

“And now that I’ve seen her, and held her … I love her, but there’s a part of me that still thinks it’s true. That I’m going to be a bad mom. And the worst part is … I remember what it felt like, when I was small, with my mother. I remember what it feels like to be loved. Just vaguely, at the back of my mind. And I’m afraid that I won’t be able to give her that because so much of my life has been overshadowed by my family. But … she has my eyes and your nose and  _ her _ hair. She’s all I have left of my mom. I don’t think I could leave now if I wanted to.”

With a burning look of determination on her face, eyes flashing intensely, Kara leant down and cupped Lena’s face between her palms, “you aren’t them. I know how you feel, but these are your fears, not the truth. I know the kind of mother you’ll be. I’ve seen you with the people you’re protective of, even when they’ve hurt you. I can’t imagine anyone loving more fiercely than you do and she is  _ so _ lucky to have you and she doesn’t even know it yet. I’m lucky too. And if it makes you feel any better, I’m terrified as well. I used to babysit in high school but I honestly don’t know the first thing about newborns. But we’ll figure it out together - like we always do.”

“Together. Right.”

Nodding in determined agreement, Lena gave her a wavering smile as Kara stroked her cheek, staring down at her for a few moments before she leant in. Their third kiss was soft and slow, unhurried as Kara’s fingers thread through Lena’s damp hair, their eyes shutting and lips parting.

Lena would’ve been happy to dwell for a while longer, despite the discomfort of the cold tiles digging into her elbows as she lay propped up, but there were more pressing matters nagging at her. Breaking it off with a grimace of regret, she reached up to brush her knuckles over Kara’s cheekbone.

“As much as I’d love to stay here all day, we have a daughter.”

Eyes widening as she let out a stuttering laugh of surprise, Kara rested her forehead against Lena’s. “We have a  _ daughter.” _

“We have a daughter,” Lena echoed again with wonder, “and I’m afraid that if we stay in here too long, Alex might try and steal her.”

Snorting with laughter, Kara pulled back and gave her a crooked smile, one cheek dimpling as her eyes crinkled. “Yeah, we might have to share for a while.”

“She’s welcome to as many diapers as she likes; the rest are on you.”

_ “Me?” _

“Well, my body is sensitive, seeing as I was just sliced open,” Lena replied, voice faint as she slumped back against the tiles, throwing an arm across her face with a melodramatic sigh. “I’m aching everywhere and it’s going to take  _ weeks _ to recover.”

“You can’t even feel your legs!” Kara crowed with laughter.

_ “Exactly.  _ I definitely can’t be changing diapers in my present state.”

With a heavy sigh, Kara pressed her lips together in a flat line as she gathered Lena up into her arms and rose to her feet in one fluid motion, peering down at her with a solemn look of amusement tugging at her lips.

“Well, I guess that’s true for the next six hours at least.”

Trying not to smile, even as the corners of her mouth twitched, Lena leant her head against Kara’s shoulder and closed her eyes, relaxing in her arms as she started walking. She barely even felt the speed, the rocking motion and gentle breeze oddly calming, and before she knew it she was being set down on the fresh sheets of her childhood bed. 

Eyes open and a pucker forming between her furrowed eyebrows, Lena ran her hands over the green crushed velvet coverlet that Kara slowly dragged over her. She must’ve made the bed up with her super-speed when she’d fetched Lena’s pyjamas for her.

“Alex is just cleaning her up a little,” Kara murmured, giving her a small smile as she sank down onto the edge of the bed. “She’ll be up with some morphine for you in a bit. Are you okay? Comfortable?”

“Mm, just tired,” Lena said, leaning back against the pillows as her eyes slid shut. “I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to  _ actually _ push a baby out.”

Quietly laughing, Kara reached out to stroke her tangled hair back from her forehead, eyes shining with amusement. “You’ll be able to sleep soon.”

“Mm.”

She lay there with her head tipped back, numb and weary as Kara absentmindedly stroked her hair, until there was a knock on the door. With a wide smile on her face, Alex stepped into the room with Luna nestled in the crook of her arm and walked over to the bed, looming over them both as she looked down at the peaceful face of the baby.

“Congratulations you guys,” Alex whispered, slowly lowering the bundle down to Kara’s outstretched arms, “she’s beautiful.”

With a tired smile, Lena reached out for Alex’s hand and gratefully squeezed it. “Thank you, Alex. I can’t thank you enough for the past few months.”

“Hey, we’re family now. It’s what we do.”

And Lena realised that they were. She finally had a family of her own, found and formed through years of friendship and the consequences of one accidental kiss, and Lena felt tears prick her eyes as her throat constricted, chest buoyed with a feeling of exultation. She’d never had a real family before, one of real love and loyalty, and she looked down at Luna as she replied to Alex.

“Well, she’s got the best aunt to look out for her.”

Alex squeezed her hand in return before letting go. “I’ll be back in a bit to sort you out. Stay in bed until then.”

“Yes, boss.”

Squeezing Kara’s shoulder on her way out, Alex shut the door behind her and gave them some privacy. Together, just the three of them, for the first time, Kara and Lena were silent as they looked down at Luna’s little round face. Her eyes were closed, fair eyelashes fluttering slightly, small, pouty lips parted as she breathed slowly, and her skin pink and free from the waxy whiteness she’d been coated in. Her head was covered in a crop of fluffy dark hair, and Lena reached out to stroke it, eyeing the reddish tint. She imagined it would lighten to a strawberry blonde as their daughter grew up, lighter than her mother’s hair, but not quite blonde.

“We should dress her,” Kara said after a moment, eager excitement written on her face as she held Luna out for Lena to take. 

Darting around in a blur, Kara opened half a dozen boxes and wrapped packages, before setting everything out on the bed. Relinquishing her hold on their daughter, Lena watched on as Kara fumbled through her first diaper change, a look of concentration clouding her face as she pursed her lips. She got there in the end and managed to put on a white cotton vest, snapping the fasteners shut and then wrapping her in the crimson baby blanket, before holding her up with triumph.

“There! That was easy, wasn’t it, _inah?”_

Brow wrinkling, Lena let out a snort of laughter. “What does  _ that _ mean?”

“Daughter in Kryptonian,” Kara said as she handed her back over.

With a wary look on her face, Lena shifted the baby in her arms until she found a comfortable position, elbow propped up on a pillow and Luna’s head resting against her arm. The baby stirred slightly, slowly blinking before she closed her eyes again and settled back down. 

“Will you teach it to her?”

“I think so,” Kara mused, a spark of eagerness in her eyes.

Lena’s heart softened slightly, aching for her. She knew that this was the role Kara had expected to fill for Clark, teaching him about his homeworld, helping him adjust to his powers when he was older, and now, she would get to do it with her own daughter. Lena was happy for her.

“It’s hard to believe a little bit of blood could create this,” Lena wondered aloud as she stared down at Luna, lightly tracing her finger over a round cheek, the shell of her ear, the bridge of her nose and the translucent lavender eyelids.

“It almost seems like a miracle,” Kara quietly laughed, shifting closer as she peered down at their daughter.

“Nothing short of it on this planet,” Lena murmured. “She’s going to be different. If she’s like you … people will expect things from her.”

“We’ll protect her.”

Lena met her gaze with a yearning sadness in her eyes, holding Luna closer as she brushed her fingers over her copper hair. “How does the rest of this ritual thing work?”

Eyes lighting up, Kara shifted closer on the edge of the bed, “it’s simple, really. There’s nothing more to it than just saying what your hopes are for your child. On Krypton, our whole lives are mapped out for us before we even leave the Genesis Chamber. Lifespan. Career. Everything. This was like ... the one thing that was up to chance. Obviously, it’s not  _ actually _ going to determine her fate or anything, it’s more like … wishful thinking. It’s just a silly tradition but-”

“It’s nice,” Lena murmured, giving Kara a warm smile. “What did your parents pick for you?”

Looking self-conscious, Kara ducked her head and rubbed the back of her neck, gesturing vaguely with her other hand. “Oh, you know ... they wanted me to be intelligent, brave, loyal.”

“Well, yours certainly came true.”

Shrugging, Kara let out an awkward laugh, shoulder shrugging up and down. “I guess. Wasn’t really anything groundbreaking though; my family’s always had a strong sense of loyalty and doing what they thought was right. The House of El used to be quite prestigious too in the Science Guild. I think my parents just picked the easy ones that would come true so they could pretend that they made it happen, instead of … genetics and environment.”

“What do you want to pick for her?” Lena murmured.

Biting her lip with a thoughtful look on her face, Kara hummed, shifting even closer, before tugging down the edge of the red blanket to peer down at their daughter’s face. 

“I hope you’re courageous. That you have your mom’s ambition and wisdom. And my determination.”

She looked up at Lena and gave her a nod of encouragement, and Lena paused for a moment, her throat closing up as a burning pressure built up behind her eyes. After a moment of opening and closing her mouth with no words coming out, Lena exhaled, deflating as she slumped against the pillows. 

“I hope … you’re happy,” Lena whispered, uncertain and halting, a sombre look clouding her expression. “And … loved. I hope you’re forgiving and warm and- and kind. That you always feel wanted and important. And I hope I can give you all of that.”

Her words were strained and full of longing, painful memories making her wince slightly as a series of old scars twinged in her heart. Too often she’d felt the opposite end of what she wished for her daughter, and Lena would do everything in her power to make sure Luna never experienced the same pain she had as a child. Or even now, twenty-six and just getting used to the feeling of love.

“I’m not sure if that’s right,” Lena whispered, looking up at Kara with timid reservation. “I just- I don’t want anything for her except to be happy and loved. Nothing else matters.”

Reaching out to stroke the side of Lena’s face, fingers grazing the underside of her jaw as the pad of her thumb smoothed over her cheek, Kara smiled. “It’s perfect. She won’t want for anything; we’ll make sure of it.”

“Yeah.”

They dwelled in hushed quietness for a few minutes, dusk painting the sky dark blue through the slit in the heavy curtains as the winter solstice ushered the night in early, and both of them sat facing each other on the bed, heads bowed over Luna as she dozed. Lena was completely enamoured with her, caught off guard by the nervous love that tugged at her heartstrings as she felt the light expanding of her daughter’s chest with each breath. It was hard to believe that she was there, that she was real.

Eventually, Kara stirred, climbing to her feet and darting towards the door, pulling it open to reveal Alex, burdened with an assortment of medical equipment. Relieving her of the IV stand and monitors and setting them down beside the bed, on Lena’s side.

“Right, let me hook you up to the machine’s and then I’ll sort out the painkillers,” Alex said, casting Kara a sideways glance, “and you should call mom and tell her the news. Maybe message the group chat too; Brainy was at the DEO and you  _ know _ how much of a gossip he is.”

“Oo! Yes. Let me take a photo to send them.”

“How about I take one of the three of you?” Alex offered, “first family photo.”

Pulling her phone out of her red, polished boot, Kara held it out with a look of keen enthusiasm lighting up her face and was beside Lena a split-second after Alex took it from her. Finding herself pressed against Kara’s side, she tilted her head in and felt Kara lean in too, her arm cupping Lena’s as they cradled Luna together.

“Okay, on three.”

They both smiled as Alex took the photo, and then Kara quickly took one of Luna’s face so everyone could see her, before disappearing to the corner to call Eliza beforehand. Lena half-listened as Alex hooked the monitor with a clip on her finger and attached the IV to the cannula in the back of her hand, before administering the morphine.

“Alright, you’re all done. I won’t bother telling you how to look after your stitches; I’m sure you can manage that. It’s going to be a rough couple of weeks though. Cramps will be normal. Drink plenty of fluids. Make sure you don’t spend all of your time in bed - walking around will be  _ good _ for you.”

“Sure. Walking. I’ve got it.”

“How’re you feeling? Nauseous? Tired? Is your skin itchy?”

Lena hummed in agreement, sullen as she frowned, eyes closed. “Tired.”

“Okay, well you should feed her and then get some sleep. Maybe try a bottle for now. Stay in bed for another eight hours, just in case. I think the little bit of Kryptonian blood will burn through the meds quickly, and maybe heal you faster, but this pregnancy took a bigger toll on your body than a normal one.”

“I think I might need to see a chiropractor,” Lena grumbled, “my back’s probably ruined.”

With a snort of laughter, Alex clapped her on the shoulder, “and you got a lovely baby girl out of it. Congratulations, your experiment was a huge success.”

“And now it’s over. Finished. Never again,” Lena said with a huff of laughter, shoulders shaking slightly against the pillows.

“Mm, I agree. Well, I have to get back to my job. Kara? Check her temperature at regular intervals okay? And the baby. Monitor them and call me if there are any changes.”

“Sure,” Kara said, pulling the phone slightly away from her ear, before turning back to the call and then looking back at Alex. “Eliza said hi.”

“Hi grandma,” Alex called out, before shoving her hands into her pockets, “well, now I really have to go.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Already called Kelly to pick me up on my bike,” Alex said as she cast a look down at Luna. “She can meet her again; I’ll leave you both to it.”

With another glance at Lena and Kara, and then back at Luna, Alex made her goodbyes and left, gently shutting the door behind her. Wrapping up her phone call shortly afterwards, Kara quickly text the photos and the announcement to the group chat before she looked up at Lena and gave her a hesitant smile, waving the phone slightly.

“Is- is there anyone you want me to tell?”

A sad look of bitter twisted Lena’s face as she gave her a rueful smile and slowly shook her head. “No. There’s no one- I mean … there’s Sam, but I- I didn’t even tell her so …”

“I’m sure she’d love to hear from you,” Kara hedged.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Lena sighed, spent from the long day, despite the fact that it was the shortest of the year. “I’ll call her tomorrow. I just … want to sleep. Can you feed her?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll, uh, I’ll make a bottle up. You don’t want to-”

Shaking her head again, Lena smiled faintly, “I think I just want to sleep.”

“Well, alright then,” Kara said, moving towards the bed. “I’ll take her with me.”

“Thank you,” Lena murmured.

Carefully lifting Luna from Lena’s arms, Kara held her against her shoulder, one hand supporting the back of her head, and gently bounced her as she looked down at Lena, taking in the purple smudges beneath her eyes. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, before pulling back.

“Sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Both of us will.”

Lena’s eyes were already heavy, the effort to drag them back open growing harder with each passing moment, and she sank back against the pillows, leaden and immobile, with a faint smile touching her lips as Kara slowly walked towards the door. She was asleep within the minute, the smile still curling her lip as Kara disappeared with her daughter, none the wiser to Kara’s disastrous attempts at making her first baby bottle.

When she woke, it was late and there was a prickling feeling in Lena’s legs, the slow beep of the monitor cutting through the heavy silence of the night as darkness shrouded the room. Blearily blinking back the fog that clouded her mind, hazy and slow with painkillers, Lena’s eyes fell on the dark figure sitting in the old rocking chair, dressed in sweats and an old sweatshirt as she dozed with a bundle wrapped up in her arms.

A quiet scoff of laughter fell from Lena’s lips as a smile stretched across her face and her eyes slid closed. There was so much warmth inside her chest, so much love that she felt like she could drown in it, the feeling so unfamiliar that it brought tears to her eyes. Hormonal and in a drug-infused haze, Lena fumbled with clumsy fingers to wipe at her wet eyes, before she looked at the beeping monitors.

Her attention was snagged by the small round disk sitting on the bedside table and she reached out to pick it up. It lay nestled in her palm, its weight familiar as she cradled it with an odd look on her face, struck by how much had changed since she’d first created  _ Hope _ . The AI had been the first step in her trying to fix her broken heart and recover from Kara’s lies through  _ Non Nocere _ , only for it to be replaced by  _ Project Semidius,  _ her life consumed by it for nigh on a year now, and Lena’s stomach fluttered as her throat closed up, memories swamping her.

_ “Hope,” _ she whispered, bringing the small hologram to life.

_ “Miss Luthor. How can I assist you?” _

More tears stinging her eyes, Lena drew in a shuddering breath and smiled. Wiping at her tears, she softly cleared her throat and sniffed, thinking about how differently everything had been a year ago. She’d been a mess, desperate for love, for someone that wouldn’t leave her. For a chance to do something good and meaningful. And in just a single day, everything had changed. In a day, she’d had declarations of love and a daughter, and it was everything she’d ever dreamed of, ever hoped for, and she hardly dared to believe that it was real.

“Mark Project Semidius as complete,” Lena whispered, a sense of finality settling on her shoulders as she breathed out, a long sigh of relief and release as she closed one of the most difficult chapters of her life.

There was nothing more to it; she had her daughter, she had the love she’d always wanted, and it was with a sense of satisfaction that she ended it, on the night of the winter solstice no less. The day had been about new beginnings, about rebirth and renewal, and it seemed like the perfect ending. Tomorrow would be a new day, the start of a new life for her, a different one - better, she hoped. 

_ “Yes, Miss Luthor. Was it a success?” _

“It was everything I dreamed it would be.”

Lena’s gaze wandered back to Kara, to Luna, and she stared through the darkness to take in the grey figure, lit by pale moonlight, sitting up straight in the chair and watching her with gentle tenderness, her eyes piercing and soft even from across the room. There was so much history there, so much pain but so much love as well, and Lena still held those old wounds close, but forgiveness had crept in too. And she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she loved Kara and Kara loved her, and that was enough for now. It was enough for a fresh start.  Her heart swelled in her chest as they looked at each other, unspoken intimacy between that said everything they felt, and Lena’s mouth lifted into a crooked smile as she looked at Kara.

“And more.”


End file.
